#Death at age 64
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remembertheplunge · 9 months ago
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All is fleeting . all is ephemeral
August 16, 2014. Saturday 6:43am
“We do not know where death awaits us:
So, let us wait for it everywhere.
To practice death is to practice freedom.
A man who has learned how to die
has unlearned how to be a slave.”
Michel de Montaigne (1533-1592) from the book “Broken Open” p. 221.
Michel de Montaigne  also advised people to practice death. “Let us deprive death of its strangeness."
My 8/17/2014 margin note to the above was
 “We rent. Price tag patina. All is fleeting. All is ephemeral.”
(By “We rent” I meant, we occupy our bodies temporarily. 
“Price Tag Patina” is a term that I came up with to describe my practice of leaving the price tag on items I buy at yard sales and also on items that did not sell at two estate sales that I held after my partner’s death. That way, things are are ready for the estate sale when I die! It’s kind of a humorous and practical  affirmation that I will die.
End of entry
Note: 8/10/2024
I had just run into the above entries about death in my 2014 journal when I learned yesterday that Nancy Ashley had died of cancer July 29. I met her in the 90’s when she was a deputy District Attorney and I was a deputy Public Defender in Modesto, California. In 1996, she ran for Judge and won. I became friends with Nancy and her husband at that time Mike Cummins. He was also a deputy District Attorney and also became a judge. In 2013, I applied to be a judge and Nancy wrote a letter of recommendation for me . Although I was never appointed judge, her support meant a lot. I was the only out gay lawyer in town at the time. (Probably still am)
Over the years, I appeared in judge Ashley’s court in Department 6 of the Stanislaus County Court house many times. I found her to be gracious and fair as a judge.
She died at age 64, just shy of her 65th birthday . I'm about 4 years older than Nancy was. I got to thinking if I had died at age 64, what wouldn’t have happened. There would be no Remember The Plunge blog. This blog began a year and a half ago. I never would have begun open water swimming in the ocean. That started 2 years ago. I wouldn’t have been there to support my sister Zoe through her sudden illness and death about a year ago.
I never would have known the magic of reviewing my journals in preparation for a book based on them and now this blog. That stated about 4 years ago. And, I never would have experienced the gathering wonder of aging that came with men mid and late 60's
8/16/2014.  (I am now 69)
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dweemeister · 1 year ago
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December 11, 2023
By Emily Badger, Ben Blatt, and Josh Katz
(The New York Times) — Sometime around 2009, American roads started to become deadlier for pedestrians, particularly at night. Fatalities have risen ever since, reversing the effects of decades of safety improvements. And it’s not clear why.
What’s even more perplexing: Nothing resembling this pattern has occurred in other comparably wealthy countries. In places like Canada and Australia, a much lower share of pedestrian fatalities occurs at night, and those fatalities — rarer in number — have generally been declining, not rising.
In America, these trends present a puzzle that has stumped experts on vehicle design, driver behavior, road safety and how they interact: What changed, starting about 15 years ago, that would cause rising numbers of pedestrian deaths specifically in the U.S. — and overwhelmingly at night?
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“This is something that, quite frankly, our profession missed,” Rebecca Sanders, the founder of Safe Streets Research and Consulting, said of the toll of nighttime deaths. “I think we missed that for a long time.”
In 2021, more than 7,300 pedestrians died in America — three in four of them during the hours between sunset and sunrise.
This trend exists on top of what is already a growing gap in roadway deaths between the U.S. and other countries. Speed limits on local roads are often higher in the U.S., laws and cultural prohibitions against dangerous driving can be weaker, and American infrastructure in many ways has been designed to enable speeding cars.
Those baseline conditions may mean, researchers suggest, that American roads — and the pedestrians walking along them — have been especially susceptible to potential new risks like smartphones and bigger vehicles.
But even that is only part of the picture.
“I don’t have any definitive answers for this,” said Jessica Cicchino, the vice president for research at the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety. Ms. Cicchino, like many observers, has puzzled over how rapidly nighttime deaths have risen. “What is it that’s happening specifically in the dark?”
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Some of the top-rated comments in the article's comment section blame the intense brightness of modern car lights (which this article fails to mention). But, obviously, there are probably multiple factors at play here which might have differing levels of causation depending on the locality or state you are talking about. And surely some of the factors listed in this article - namely distracted driving through cell phones - are anything but exclusive to the U.S.
That said, always drive safely and without distraction when you are taking to the roads.
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ileftmysoulinnorway · 11 months ago
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The Vampire Laws (according to the Children of Darkness).
Total of one hundred.
Written in Latin. The main coven was based in Rome, and Armand was sent from there to Paris. Is Latin his third language? ("French my fourth and poorest language").
They largely use the term "lamiae" for vampires (which makes sense given the part of the world), but not always.
The Five Great Laws
1. Quisque suum thalamum debet habere ducem e ... ponat ... doli.
(my translation) Each coven (literally „inner room“) must have its leader ... order ... Trick.
(used in the show) Each coven must have its leader and only he might order the working of the Dark Trick upon a mortal.
2. Dona tenebrosa numquam debilesdebile.. ... er.. aut iis qui necum potestatibus quidem obscuris suis vivere possunt debent.
The Dark Gifts must never be given to the weak ... or to those who cannot (in fact) live with their dark powers.
The Dark Gifts must never be given to the crippled, the maimed or to children.
3. Nullus lamia vampiris debet scribere historiam lamiae vel quamlibet veram cognitionem lamiorum netalis historia inveniatura mortalibus et credatur.
No vampire should commit to writing the history of the vampires, or any true knowledge of vampires, lest such a story be discovered and believed by mortals.
No vampire must commit to writing the history of the vampires.
4. Nemo lamia suamveram naturammortalibus unquam patefaciet et mortale vivat.
No vampire will ever reveal his true nature to mortals and lives as a mortal.
No vampire shall ever reveal his or her true nature to a mortal and let the mortal live.
5. Nullus lamia potestalium lamia destruere nisi quod dominus copuluspotestatemhabetvitae et necis super totum gregem suum.
No vampire can destroy another vampire except for the coven master who holds the power of life and death over his whole flock.
No vampire may ever destroy another vampire except that the coven master has the power of life and death over all his flock.
Other laws that are at least a little bit readable:
51. Lamia semper ad sep... re...bit vel uni simillimum.
A vampire is always ... or very similar to one.
52. Lamia non cognoscet gaudium.
A vampire will not know joy.
53. Non cognoscet lamia felicitatem.
A vampire will not know happiness.
54. Leges magnae lamiae ...olasse iudicatus exs... ... morte punietur.
The laws of the great vampire* ... judged ... will be punished by death.
*or more likely the great laws of the vampires.
55. Lamia(e) exilia punienda ...buntur in terra tumulanda.
Exiled vampires to be punished ... buried in the ground.
56. Lamia non ambulabit in locis lucis.
A vampire will not walk in places of light.
57. Vampires praedam e consortio rapient ...s profuxis[?] et vagi.
Vampires will snatch prey from the group  ... runaways and vagrants.
58. Lamia nunquam cognoscet delicias vitae vanitates saeculi.
A vampire will never know the pleasures of life and the vanities of the world/age.
59. Lamia non requiret solatium foci[?].
A vampire will not require the comfort of a family.
60. Vampires nunquam carnalem delectationem cum mortalibus requirent.
Vampires will never seek carnal pleasure with mortals.
61. Vampires nunquam mortalium consortia quaerunt.
Vampires never seek the company of mortals.
62. Vivere inter homines ....nt labentibus annis lamia ad insaniam.
To live among humans .... the passing years ... a vampire to madness.
63. Vivere inter homines alios videre senescere ac mori sicut lamia nunquam sequila[?] lamia ad insaniam impellet.
To live among humans and see others grow old and die, like vampires would never, will drive vampires to insanity.
64. Lamia non ....patem quaerunt.
A vampire not ... seek.
65. Vampires in choro[?] delectationem non reg...rent.
Vampires do not ... delight in dance.
66. Vampires in musica non quaerunt ....tem.
Vampires do not seek .... in music.
67. Lamia(e) non[?] actibus[?] delectationem quaerunt,
Vampires do not seek pleasure in perfomances.
68. Vampires litterae** voluptatem non requirent.
Vampires do not seek pleasure in books.
**thank you lilium-in-blue
69. Vampires magicae non ....ionem requirent.
Vampires do not seek .... magic.
81. Factor amittit fac....diendi f.lli sui cogitationes ..c ...tium est donum obscurae largi...
The maker loses .... his thoughts ... is Dark Gift ...
82. Lamia in alias formas inc..sa europaea mutare poterit sed numquam in ...rundom africanum vertere poteris.
A vampire in other forms ... European ... will be able to change but never in ... African ... will be able to turn.***
*** I have no idea what this means. Words are missing and the whole sentence can have a completely different meaning than what it looks like now. My first thought was that it was some kind of reference to Akasha and Enkil. Please don't jump to conclusions.
83. Veri filii dei potestatibus eam ...per fidem resistere possunt s.... ....e sunt creaturae infidelis damnatorum.
True children of God .... powers ... can resist faith ... are the creatures ... damned unfaithful.
84. Lamia corpora aquae salsae in aestus maximo et infimo .a.tum transibunt.
A vampire will cross bodies of salt water ... at high and low tides.
85. Ut tempus mortale depopulatur corpus lamia depopulabitur tempus ut anni decennia vertuntur in saecula millennii corpus petrificat et lamia volvitur in saxum.
As time destroys the mortal body, so the vampire will be destroyed over time, as the decades turn into the centuries of the millennium, the body petrifies and the vampire turns to stone.
86. Vampires victimas non relinquent ubi a mortalibus cognosci possint nisi tales dolores fuerint ut mors non sit causa praeternaturalia.
Vampires will not leave their victims where they can be recognized by mortals unless they are wounded in such a way that their death does not seem supernatural.
87. Lamia vera loquetur scobe[?] domino.
The vampire will speak the truth ... to the master.
88. Lamia domino suo asse obediet eique exhibebit quantum tale officium postulat.
A vampire will obey his master and will give him as much as such a duty demands.
89. Lamia ad omnes casus paretur.
A vampire is prepared for everything.
90. Lamia paratus ad immolandum se ad bonum testudinis.
A vampire is willing to sacrifice himself/herself for the good of the coven.
91. Paratus lamia paratus erit suum testudinum et dominum suum ab omnibusiminis externis et domesticis defendere.
A prepared vampire will be ready to defend his/her coven and his/her master from external and internal threats.
92. Super omnia custodiatte.
Above all, be vigilant.
93. Nullam lamia eg... posuere eget t.n.idunt quam.
No vampire ... needs to put ...
94. Si lamia in...niret socium lamia fractam testudinis regulas tali de..sta domino cousco referentur.
If a vampire ... vampire breaks the rules of the coven, such ... they will be reported to the coven master.
95. Defectum de .ae...is membris certi... facere faciet ..os criminum facitos[?] lamia ac s ... .a... miserit.
The failure of ... members ... will make ... crimes ... vampire ... will be killed/released.
96. Ignorantia testament.. regulae non erit acceptabile defensionem contra regulas praevaricationis.
Ignorance ... of the rules will not be an acceptable defense against breaking the rules.
97. Admissa in cr..am un ... via exeundi ...
Admitted ... way ... avoid ...
98. Pactum lamia s... et pacem[?] praesedit.
A vampire pact ... and presides over peace.
TL;DR: Very cult-like rules, calling for restraint, moderation, obedience. Lots of little callbacks.
Let me know if you spot any mistakes or can add anything. I'm used to translating from Latin, but not into English. Latin is a bit tricky, mainly because of the crazy word order.
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mesetacadre · 4 months ago
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hey! this is a dumb question, but why are general secretaries elected for life?
They aren't. The procedure in democratic centralism is that a Congress is called periodically, typically every 4-5 years though that might vary, where a new Central Committee and its associated organs are elected, including the General Secretary. The Congress is the most powerful organ in a communist party, above the CC and gensec. Members of the party are chosen as delegates from their local cells, and they each have one vote, as well as having the duty to participate in the debates.
In the USSR, Lenin was actually never the general secretary, then Stalin was elected repeatedly despite him asking to step down multiple times. He died whole being gensec. Khruschev was replaced by Brezhnev in 1964. Brezhnev did die in 1982, and afterwards there were two quick successions both ended with the person holding the position dying, Andropov in 1984 and Chernenko in 1985. Gorbachev of course died 2 years ago, as he was overthrown. It is true that after Stalin the USSR had a very aged leadership, that's why Brezhnev, and especially Andropov and Chernenko died in the position.
In Cuba, before the revolution, only José Peña Vilaboa died while being first secretary and he only held it for a year or two. Fidel left office in 2011 and he died in 2016. Raúl Castro succeeded him and he left office in 2021, he's still alive. Now it's Miguel Díaz Canel who is 64.
In Vietnam, Trần Phú died while in office in 1935, then it wasn't until 6 general secretaries/first secretaries, including Hồ Chí Minh who died 9 years after leaving the position, Lê Duẩn died while in charge in 1986. No other general secretaries have died except for Nguyễn Phú Trọng who died last year.
In China, there is more of a marked difference between the state and party, but it's honestly not that hard to research. Most have not died in office.
The DPRK is a big exception, the Worker's Party of Korea, which to be clear isn't even the only party in the DPRK, has had 3 previous general secretaries (Kim Tu-Bong, Kim Il Sung, Kim Jong Il) who have all died in office. I'm sure someone can explain this in more depth, but the Kim family was so well-regarded and initially chose as general secretaries because they were almost legendary guerilla fighters against Japanese occupation, especially Kim Il Sung. Anna Louise Strong talks about this more here in chapter 3 Government and Elections. Whatever the case, each member of the Kim family has been very involved in the WPK, and due to the accumulated experience elected.
Whichever country you were thinking of when you sent this ask, which is probably the USSR or the DPRK, nobody is chosen until death. These positions are regularly and democratically renewed or reconfirmed, and I don't think that someone being elected multiple times is undemocratic. If people are happy with how something is run, why would they change it? and besides, let me remind you the General Secretary is not that supremely powerful. All decisions in a democratic-centralism system are taken collectively, taking into account previous debates and the constant feedback from the base. Many, many people are involved who the Central Committee rely on, and the CC itself often changes members even more between congresses. Idk, the USamericans chose FDR for almost 4 terms an nobody talks about the FDR dictatorship. It's not hard to believe maybe FDR was simply a good president most people liked, and who was in charge during a crucial time. The DPRK has been under constant siege since its very creation, under sanctions and with some of the largest military bases and exercises on its border, run by the people who killed around a fifth of your people. Changing leadership often might also be conducive to instability and a rapidly-changing course, which the Korean people would understandibly not want.
Same with Stalin. He was the general secretary during a crucial time, the collectivization of work and industrialization on par with the US and western Europe, followed by the Nazi-fascist invasion, and then the very costly reconstruction.
Non-ruling democratic-centralist parties typically have a much faster rotation of general/first secretaries, you can look at a list on Wikipedia for most parties out there and you can compare with their death dates.
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city-of-ladies · 2 months ago
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A controversial figure, Didda (924–1003) demonstrated remarkable political skill, overcoming all opposition to rule Kashmir in her own right.
Rise to power
Didda was the daughter of Simharaja, king of Lohara (modern-day Lohrin in Poonch), and seemed to have held her father in high regard. From an early age, she displayed intelligence and a strong, domineering personality.
The chronicler Kalhana referred to her as "footless." While this might have been a criticism of her character, it is more likely that Didda had a physical disability. Though capable of walking, she relied on a woman named Valga to carry her on her back during games that involved running. In gratitude, Didda later commissioned a temple in her honor, called Valgamath.
In 950, Didda married Kshemagupta, king of Kashmir. A dissolute ruler addicted to hunting and gambling, Kshemagupta soon fell under Didda’s influence. He became so associated with her that he was mockingly called "Diddakshema," a contraction of their names. Unbothered by the mockery, Kshemagupta even had coins minted bearing both their names.
Regent against all opposition
Didda gave birth to a son, Abhimanyu. When Kshemagupta died suddenly in 958 from a violent fever, she feared for her son's life and secretly hid him away. Rejecting the tradition of sati, she refused to join her husband on his funeral pyre, arguing that her young son needed her.
With Abhimanyu crowned as king, Didda ruled as regent. She immediately faced opposition from her late husband’s nephews but managed to turn some of their allies to her side. Her minister, Naravahana, defeated the remaining rebels in battle. Didda had the rest of the rebels killed, sparing only those she deemed useful.
She sent her general Yashodhara to subdue the neighboring king of Shahi. When Yashodhara returned victorious, she attempted to arrest him, fearing he might turn against her. Yashodhara rebelled, and although the conflict was difficult, Didda, with the help of her allies, ultimately prevailed.
The chronicler Kalhana had a negative view of Didda, labeling her immoral and licentious—stereotypes he often applied to powerful women. However, he grudgingly acknowledged her strength:
“The lame queen, whom no one had thought capable of stepping over a cow’s footprint got over the ocean-like host of her enemies just like Hanuman got over the ocean”.
A string of tragic deaths
As Abhimanyu grew older, he began opposing his mother’s rule. However, in 972, he died of consumption. His young son, Nandigupta, succeeded him, with Didda continuing as regent. She commissioned numerous building projects in memory of her son, ultimately founding 64 structures during her lifetime.
Tragedy struck again when Nandigupta died within a year of taking the throne. His brother, Tribhuvanagupta, succeeded him but also died soon after. Didda was accused of witchcraft and of orchestrating their deaths, though this seems unlikely, as she had nothing to gain from it. In 975, she placed her third grandson, Bhimagupta, on the throne.
During this time, Didda gained a key ally in Tunga, a commoner whom she initially employed as a letter carrier. Recognizing his abilities, she promoted him repeatedly until he became both prime minister and commander of her armies. Rumors suggested that Tunga was also her lover.
However, as Bhimagupta began showing an interest in governance and reforms, he died under mysterious circumstances in 981. Whispers spread that Didda had him imprisoned and tortured.
Ruling in her own name
With no heirs left to rule, Didda formally took the throne, minting coins bearing her own name: "Sri Didda". Kashmir had seen female rulers before, such as the legendary Yashovati and Sugandha, who ruled 50 years earlier, first as a regent and then two years in her own name. Didda was the first to govern with absolute power for an extended period.
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Copper coins minted during Didda's reign
For the next 22 years, she ruled unchallenged, using bribes, strategic alliances, and ruthless reprisals to suppress periodic rebellions. She notably crushed an uprising led by her nephew.
As she neared the end of her reign, Didda sought a successor. She assembled boys from her maternal family and placed fruits before them, challenging them to collect as many as possible. Her brother’s son, Samgramaraja, incited the other boys to fight among each other and gathered the most. Impressed by his cunning, Didda chose him as her heir.
She made Tunga and Samgramaraja swear to cooperate. Their collaboration ensured stability in the kingdom for the next two decades. Under Samgramaraja’s leadership, Kashmir successfully resisted the invasions of Mahmud of Ghazni—partly due to the strong army and administration Didda had built.
Didda passed away in 1003 at the age of 79.
Though she ruled with an iron fist, she was undeniably a remarkable strategist and politician. As Mark Aurel Stein observed:
“The statesmanlike instinct and political ability which we must ascribe to Didda in spite of all the defects of her character, are attested by the fact that she remains the last in peaceful possession of the Kashmir throne, and was able to bequeath it to her family in undisputed succession.”
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Further reading: 
Achakzai Khawar Khan, “Queen Didda: between facts and fantasy”.
Gupta Garodia Archana, The women who ruled India, leaders, warriors, icons
Jan Changez, Forgotten Kings The Story of the Hindu Sahi Dynasty
Kalhana, Rajatarangini
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glitzygrl · 1 month ago
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smth I’ve been thinking about but no one cares about is the batfam ages. I love teen dad!bruce and the love dick realizing he’s old and everything but when you sit down and imagine their ages you actually have pretty logical (noncanon) ages gaps.
without further ado here are the ages the batfam is just nebulously existing as in my head. share your age hc’s too the brainrot is consuming me.
Alfred-no one knows and they’re afraid to ask. this man has been grey since before the thomas and martha died. he’s 64 but duke is convinced he’s older than that because he keeps referencing “the war” and refuses to specify which one
Bruce-42 but looks to be in his mid thirties. no longer at his physical peak but no less hotter. teeters dangerously on the edge of salt n pepper but refuses to let it happen. THE HAIR DYE IS JUST FOR THE MEDIA GUYS NO OTHER REASON. lowkey still listens to angsty teen emo music.
Barbara- she’s 30 and thriving. used to make fun of dick for being younger/shorter than her until he hit a growth spurt. still holds seniority over everyone including Bruce.
Dick-28 and having a minor crisis about it. cuz wdym he’s been a vigilante for 20 years?? he’s fineee guys really (Tim once asked what it was like to be born in the 1900s and he cried).
Jason-23 probably. he’s mostly sure but with some weird gaps in there. lost at least 6 months post-death and brings it up to make the others feel bad. was definitely a crime lord before he could legally drink. still feels like he’s 15.
Cass-21 but FRESHLY so. bruce threw the biggest party for her and he is so totally fine about her growing up. yes he is Alfred put away the tissues please.
Steph-she’s only a few months younger than cass so like 20?? swings wildly between responsible adult and insane teenage shenanigans. there is no grey area.
Tim-LET MY BOY AGEEEE. please let him be 19. still the youngest WE business guy and smarter than all of elders. just let my boy be at the weird college age where he’s no longer a kid but he’s no where near a full adult. let him be weird about it. I love imagining him, cass, and steph being equally like 6 months apart and basically being chaos triplets.
Duke-17 but the 17 where he can fight rouges and still not finish drivers ed. wdym he has to be taught, HES DRIVEN THE BATMOBILE. YES IT STILL COUNTS IF HE CRASHED IT SO HAS EVERYONE ELSE. junior year as a vigilante would suck but he’s got the best work-life balance out of the entire family.
Damian-he’s 14 but ALMOST 15. people almost mistake him for dukes ages because of how he carries himself but he still has that little bit of baby fat clinging to him for dear life. has yet to hit a major growth spurt but will end up as the tallest Wayne sibling.
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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 1 month ago
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A Curse [Chapter 9: Hollywood]
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A/N: We're in the home stretch now, besties! Only 3 chapters left until the curse is lifted 🪄
Series summary: You are an aspiring actress. Aegon is a washed-up and disenchanted agent…at least until he sees something special in you. But within paradisical seaside Los Angeles you find terrible dangers and temptations, secrets and lies. Maybe Aegon’s right; maybe the City of Angels really is a curse.
Chapter warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), age-gap situationship, Maroon 5, illness/death, angst, ice cream, Sunshine makes her red carpet debut! 😍
Word count: 6.5k
💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜
Tagging: @lauraneedstochill @mrs-starkgaryen @chattylurker @neithriddle @ecstaticactus, more in comments! 🥰
🏝️ Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🏝️
Time machine, walls like glass, the dial turned back to 2009. It’s Viserys’ funeral, and no one can even pretend they’re sad. They stopped being sad years ago, and only relief is left. No more long nocturnal hours of the deathwatch, no more hushed sympathetic updates from the hospice nurses, no more unrecognizable white-haired organic matter contorted in his hospital bed. The chains are broken and they are free, all except one of them, the nineteen-year-old son who believes—without proof, without logic—that the curse is not lifted but only transferred, living on in him like an echo down a long hall.
It’s 2005, and Viserys has turned mean: paranoid, volatile, lashing out with fury at his increasing limitations as his brain is hollowed out like a Halloween pumpkin, like a cored apple. He roars and he throws things. He forgets his family are not torturers. Alicent could shut him away somewhere, but she doesn’t, the guilt would eat her alive; and so while nurses are present at the Malibu mansion around the clock, the Targaryens are not spared his wrath. One night Viserys breaks a window and wields a shard of glass like a dagger, and when the nurses flee screaming, Aemond stops Alicent from entering the room and goes in himself to clean up the mess. Someone has to.
It’s 1999, and after years of anomalies that nobody knew were symptoms—mood swings, muscle weakness, difficulty making decisions, balance problems, memory lapses—Viserys has been diagnosed with a disease that must have been lurking in his forebearers for generations, unbeknownst to them without the longevity or genetic tests of modern medicine. And like so many absent husbands and fathers who experience a revelation of their impending doom, he is determined to make up for lost time. He bakes with Alicent in the kitchen. He walks with Helaena in the garden. He stops condemning nine-year-old Aegon for long hours spent with his favorite toy, a charcoal gray Nintendo 64, first edition; the Fire Orange console won’t be released until the following year, part of the Funtastic Colors series. And now that it’s too late, Viserys’ children learn to love him.
Viserys takes Aegon’s hand and asks the boy to show him how to play Nintendo 64, here at the very start like a mirage, already beginning to disintegrate around the edges.
~~~~~~~~~~
It’s Thursday, August 7th. You don’t have an appointment to see Aegon, but you’re here in Elysian Park anyway. You park on the curb and sweep out into the gilded morning glow, already mid-80s and rising, wrinkled goldenrod-yellow sundress that you left in the drier too long, flip-flops, bare-faced. You barely slept and ran out the door as soon as you clawed your way out of brief, fitful dreams, autumn leaves and endless corridors through apple orchards, distant stars and deep water.
At his desk, Brandon is on the phone and making notes with his flower pen. He gives you a smile; you can only manage a quick wave. You continue into Aegon’s office, where he is engrossed in Mario’s expedition into an ice world where snow falls in unhurried, harmless white spheres. The music is pleasant, but the pools of frozen water are so cold they burn. Mario is making his way towards a block of ice in which a star has been hidden, accessible by navigation through narrow tunnels. Aegon, his green Nike Killshots propped up on his cluttered desk as usual, is surprised but not disappointed to see you.
“Hey, sunshine!” he says, still clicking the buttons on his transluscent orange controller, still swiveling the joystick. “What are you doing here so—?”
“Your dad died of Huntington’s disease.”
He freezes, and on the television screen, so does Mario; a malevolent snowman entity appears and hurls snowballs at the abandoned avatar until he is dead. You wait for Aegon to say something—no, that’s not true, no, you’re wrong, no, that would be a death sentence—but he only sits there, jaw fallen open, eyes filling up his face…and then he jolts to his feet and goes for the door.
You whirl around to watch him leave. “Aegon…?”
He stops in the doorway to the lobby and calls out: “Brando, you’re done for the day. Bye.”
“Oh for cute!” Brandon replies. “Let me just send an email to that moving company and then—”
“No, now. You’re done right now.”
Brandon sounds perplexed. “Okay, literally right now, you got it.” You can hear him gathering up his things, the jangling of car keys, the snapping shut of a laptop, and you remember all the hours you’ve spent gazing into a small rectangular blue-light screen as you combed through Aegon’s filmography, inspired potential that came to a collision of a stop in his mid-twenties. From the threshold, as he waits for Brandon to leave, Aegon watches you with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes thrashing with dark choppy waves like the riptides of the Pacific. You stare back thunderstruck, and only now do you realize how desperately you were hoping you were mistaken.
Out in the lobby, the front door of the half-duplex opens and closes, and now you and Aegon are alone. He walks back to his desk—loose papers, manila folders, framed photographs, that ever-present bowl of Honeycrisp apples—and drops into his chair, drags his fingers through his slicked-back hair, gazes vacantly at the mint green wall and sighs deeply.
“Who told you?” he asks, like hardly anyone knows, like the few who do wouldn’t have said anything.
“Nobody,” you say, startled. “I just kept guessing different diseases, and I didn’t think it was cancer, and…and…Aegon, Huntington’s is genetic.”
He looks up at you. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”
“Have you been tested? Because if one of your parents had it then you have a fifty percent chance of inheriting the gene.”
“No, I haven’t been tested.”
“Why not?!”
“Because I just haven’t, okay?”
“Have your siblings?”
“Yeah, and they’re all negative. But I didn’t take the test.”
“I think you should take the test, Aegon.”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Because you should know!” you burst out, and your hands are trembling like his do sometimes, dire adrenaline in your bloodstream and your voice frayed like someone has taken a razor blade to it. “Because if you’re negative then you’ll be relieved, and if you’re positive then you can…you can plan for it, you know? And there are treatments that can help manage the symptoms! I looked it up, I spent like four hours last night on Wikipedia—”
“But no one can stop it,” Aegon says. “They can’t even slow it down.”
“You think you have the gene,” you realize, horrified. “You forget things. Your hands shake. And that’s why you’re leaving Los Angeles and avoiding your family, and that’s why you’re marrying Becca—”
“Stay the fuck out of my head,” Aegon says, the first time he’s ever spat his venom at you, and his knuckles are unbruised and yet it feels like he’s hit you, a crack in a wall, bones that split and arteries that hemorrhage.
“Aegon, you can’t run away like that when you don’t even know for sure if you’re sick!”
“It’s actually really common for people in my situation to not want to take a test.”
You speak without any awareness of what you’re going to say. “I would take care of you.”
“You think I want to hear that?!” Aegon shouts. “You think I want to imagine you being there when I lose the ability to walk, and speak, and feed myself, and remember who the fuck I am?”
“I would do it,” you insist. “You believed in me. You helped me. I would help you.”
He shakes his head and glares at you, his eyes going slick and glassy. “You have no idea what you’re offering.”
“Your family has money, they can afford the best doctors and nurses. You wouldn’t be a burden on any of us, but we’d still get to be with you—”
“I saw what my dad dying did to my mom,” Aegon says bitterly, hatefully. “First he was himself, mostly. And then he was depressed, and then he was angry, and then he became a monster. He’s the reason my mother still has nightmares. He’s the reason Aemond lost his eye. You don’t do that to people you care about. You don’t inflict that on someone you love.”
“But what if you move to Texas and you’re fine, and you don’t have Huntington’s, and you don’t die and nothing terrible happens to you?!”
“Then it will be a relief,” Aegon says softly. “And I can always come back.”
“What about me?” you ask, your voice splintering. “If you’re sick, you’re just never going to see me again?”
Aegon smiles faintly, sad, resigned. “I would rather you remember me the way I am now.”
“Afraid? Avoidant? In denial?”
“Just get out,” he snaps, rubbing his face with his palms, wincing like he’s in pain.
“Aegon—”
“No, you don’t know what it’s like to watch someone die of this!” he roars, slamming his fist on the desk. Documents rustle; photographs fall over. “And if I don’t want a diagnosis, if I don’t want to live staring down the barrel of a gun, then that’s my fucking right and you don’t get to say I’m a coward for it!”
“You’re already living like you know you’re dying,” you moan, you plead. There are tears flowing down your cheeks and turning to salt on your lips; your face is hot with blood. “You don’t have anything to lose.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“But you’re making all these choices for the wrong reasons, and you deserve to know the truth, and if you take a test then you can make an informed decision about what you want your life to look like—”
“I would never pick you,” Aegon says, flat, direct, gutting. “So get that out of your head, because it’s not happening.”
You gaze at him helplessly. “Then what are we doing?”
He shrugs, like this is an idiotic question. “I’m your agent. I’m helping you get jobs.”
“That’s not what this is!” you sob. “It’s always been more than that, it’s been more than that from the very first day! Why did you sign me when no one else would? Why were you feeding me boneless spare ribs off your fork? Why did you throw me that apple?!”
Aegon is incredulous. “Why did I fuck you in this office, why did I fly to Minnesota to have dinner with your awful parents? Because I wanted to. Because I really like you, and I think I’ve been honest about that. But that doesn’t mean it’s serious.”
Never serious, you remember miserably. That’s how Aegon had described his affairs. “Does Becca know you could have Huntington’s?”
“No,” Aegon says. “But if she did, it wouldn’t change anything. She would still want to get married.”
“She would want to take care of you.”
“Yes, exactly. She would be upset for a while, yeah, but she…she needs someone to need her. Her parents were doctors, and they weren’t abusive or anything but they were gone all the time, and the house was like a museum, and now she’s…I don’t know, I guess she’s obsessed with creating warmth, and for Becca warmth means homemade bread and bento boxes and dogs and getting my suits tailored for me, and me being her full-time project…I think a part of her would enjoy that. Having me to herself, finally being the center of my universe. And when I get really bad, when I’m…” Aegon swallows noisily. “When I’m dead, she can move on. She can find someone else to marry and she can have kids, and she’ll always have that trophy on her shelf: I was a Targaryen, I was the perfect long-suffering wife. And Aegon loved me more than any of the others.”
More than me, you think. And then a ricochet of Aegon’s words: I would never pick you. “She’s not mad at you? Because of what we’ve done?”
Aegon chuckles uneasily. “I mean, I’m sure she’s not thrilled about you still being around. She’s been a little temperamental, she’s been suspicious. Right before we left for Minnesota, I woke up from a nap and she was swabbing my cheek for an STD test, can you believe that? But she knows this is temporary.”
What had Becca said the day she pushed you just outside this office? And if he was going to leave me, he has better options than you. You nod like any of this makes sense.
“Can we just be us again?” Aegon asks, and now he’s calm, gentle, exhausted. “We have a month left together. I don’t want to waste it.”
“Okay,” you say numbly.
“Don’t forget about the music video premiere tomorrow night. And I haven’t heard anything from the vampire movie people yet.” Then he adds: “That doesn’t mean you didn’t get it.”
“But it’s not a good sign.”
Aegon tries to soften the blow. “They might just be thinking it over. They might still be scheduling the callback for the other actress.”
You—unsteady, dazed, despondent—stare down at the scuffed wood floor and try in vain to smooth the wrinkles out of your sundress. “Sounds like we’ll both be leaving Los Angeles soon,” you tell Aegon; and then you walk until the walls disappear and only the city is left, sun glare, humming air conditioners, dogs barking, children laughing, engines revving, the immense metallic shadow of Downtown on the horizon.
At home in your apartment building, just as you are about to scan your keycard to unlock the front door, you hear Baela and Jace talking inside. The television is on and the microwave is purring—maybe Jace is making one of his favorite snacks, corn dogs or pizza rolls—and their voices are just barely distinguishable.
“What am I supposed to say to her?” Baela asks, sounding distressed. “That I’m officially too rich and famous to need a roommate? I can’t just kick her out. It would break her heart. She’s so sweet, and I know she’s trying really hard but it’s just…well…”
“No, I get it,” Jace replies. “She’s chill.”
“It sounds like her parents are going to make her move home soon anyway, unless she lands a big part, and…you know…I don’t really see that happening.”
“Yeah.” The microwave beeps and someone pops open the door to retrieve the contents.
“So just please don’t say anything, okay? And when she’s gone in a few months we’ll start looking at apartments in Venice or Santa Monica…”
You put your back to the hallway wall and wait long enough that they won’t think you’ve overheard anything, listening to the sounds of cars whooshing by outside, people coming and going from the places where they belong in the world, and you wonder what that feels like.
~~~~~~~~~~
You stay up too late watching YouTube videos of people with Huntington’s disease, and so the next morning at Cold Stone Creamery you are in a haze, dull throbbing headache, eyes bloodshot from crying, and the frat bro you’re making a Gotta Have It-sized Cookie Mintster for probably thinks you’re high but it’s the opposite: you’ve never felt lower, you’ve never been adrift like this, and you don’t know what to do next. You can’t unknot the threads fate has tied to Aegon. You can’t imagine a life for yourself back home. You can’t remember why you ever thought you’d be able to build something here in the City of Angels, glittering and golden and ever-rushing towards perfection, those who fall behind drug under the wheels.
“Can I get some gummy bears on that?” the frat boy is saying, but your gaze catches on someone behind him. The little metal bells on the glass door jingle and Aegon scrolls inside, khaki cargo shorts and a wrinkled short-sleeve white Oxford thrown over a pink tank top, and he’s traded in his Nikes for flip-flops, and his hair is gelled back from his face so you can see him clearly, vividly, and he leans against the window with daylight flooding in all around him and grins at you.
Why…?
“Can I please get some gummy bears?” the frat boy asks again.
Your manager Josh is blending up a strawberry banana smoothie and glowering at you. “Yo, what is wrong with you today?!”
But you don’t care what he’s saying, because Aegon pulls his black aviator sunglasses out of the pocket of his cargo shorts and slides them on and beams at you, and you hear the words as if he’s spoken them aloud: You are so bright, sunshine.
“I got the part?” you say from behind the counter.
Aegon nods. “You got the part.”
You scream and sprint to him, and when you throw your arms around Aegon he catches you, laughing and warm, and right now his hands are perfectly fine, steady and strong as they cradle the small of your back, the arc of your neck.
“Where the hell are you going?” Josh snaps from the blender. The frat boy, still waiting for his Cookie Mintster, is glaring at you impatiently. “I didn’t say you could take your break yet!”
“Hey,” Aegon says, taking a hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet and waving it around so Josh can see before dunking it in the tip jar. “She’s quitting. Call someone else.” And then he pulls you, grinning and exhilarated, out of the Cold Stone Creamery and into the August air, moving swiftly beneath a cerulean sky full of cumulus clouds, 90-degrees and diesel fumes.
“Aegon, I can’t quit yet, I still have to pay my rent—”
“I’ll pay your rent,” Aegon says. He stops when you are under the shade of a palm tree and stands there with you in the oasis. His Sebring is parked illegally in a fire lane; it is adorned with a new malady, a massive dent in the bumper. “You’re going to have costume fittings and table-reads, and you have to learn the script, and you’ll have appointments with hair and makeup, and you’ll have a personal trainer, and promo obligations…you won’t have time to work.”
“You didn’t force them to hire me, did you?” you ask, the effervescent high dissolving away. “You didn’t threaten to blacklist them with your whole family or anything, right? Because I don’t want this if it’s not real.”
“What?” Aegon says, mystified. “No. No, I swear, I wouldn’t do that. And I don’t think it would have worked even if I’d tried. First billing is a huge deal. Not even Taylor Swift has managed to buy herself a starring role in a movie yet. They liked you. They wanted you.”
The hope quivers in your voice. “I’m going to be an actress?”
Aegon smiles. “You already are one.” He takes off your red apron and your grey hat and stuffs both in a nearby trashcan. “Are you parked around here?”
You point to your Honda Accord, 2003, Desert Mist Metallic paint that gleams under the sun. “I’m just across the street.”
“You aren’t bringing Jace to the Maroon 5 thing tonight, right? Because it’s in your best interests to appear unattached.”
You raise an eyebrow, teasing. “Unattached?”
“Yeah. Being ostensibly single makes you confident and alluring and mysterious. Dragging along your mop-haired boyfriend makes you look like a high school kid at prom.”
“And how does dragging along my sulky, disillusioned Targaryen agent make me look?”
“Like a star,” Aegon replies simply.
“I’m not bringing Jace. Or anyone else besides you.”
“Great.”
“Can we drive to the premiere together?” You don’t want to be away from Aegon; you are a little petrified of the fanfare that awaits you in Downtown tonight. You have no idea what to expect.
“Yeah,” Aegon says, outwardly casual, unmistakably pleased. “I have a driver booked. We’ll swing by your apartment in the limousine around 7 p.m.”
“Why aren’t we taking the Sebring?”
“Because people don’t drive themselves to premieres, sunshine,” he says, like he’s explaining to a child an obvious and fundamental truth: the sky is blue, the Earth is round. Then he gestures to his white convertible and its sizeable new dent. “And also I keep running into things and I don’t want you in the car when I’m driving.”
Because his hands shake? Because his reflexes are slowing until they inevitably stop? “Maybe you’re just stressed because of the wedding,” you say softly.
“Yeah. Maybe.”
“Or it’s psychosomatic. You expect to see symptoms, so you do. But really you’re fine.”
Aegon sighs as wind blows eastward from the Pacific Ocean. He wants to change the subject. You can’t stop yourself from talking. “It’s possible.”
“Maybe whatever’s wrong with you isn’t Huntington’s. Maybe it’s something else, like a vitamin deficiency or a thyroid disorder or lupus or fibromyalgia, or diabetes from all the super unhealthy food you eat. Maybe it’s something a doctor can fix.”
“I’ll see you tonight, okay?” Aegon says; and he kisses your cheek and climbs into his Sebring and speeds off towards the interchange of the 110.
~~~~~~~~~~
You told your parents you needed a dress for Clara’s bachelorette party so they wouldn’t yell at you when they saw the charge on the credit card. You will have to devise a new strategy for future purchases; you are running out of wedding-related excuses. The gown is electric yellow and less formal than the one you wore to the charity gala, sufficiently frivolous for a music video premiere, a V-neck and a high-low hemline. Your hair is down and your eyeshadow warm and smokey: Gilded Ganache and Semi-Sweet by Too Faced, Night Star by NARS. You drench yourself with sugary Shimmer Mist from Bath and Body Works, then realize that was probably a stupid idea. But there’s no time to try to scrub it off; Aegon has texted you that he’s five minutes away.
You click out into the kitchen in the yellow heels you found at T.J. Maxx. Jace is sprawled on the couch and bobbing his head as he sings along to a Charli XCX song pulsing out of his iPhone:
“You wanna guess the color of my underwear,
You wanna know what I got goin’ on down there…”
Baela, who had been getting a can of La Croix from the refrigerator, turns and is startled when she sees you. “You’re glittering. And that looks like a prom dress.”
You scrutinize yourself, suddenly self-conscious. “Is it bad?”
“No!” Baela cries, overcorrecting, not wanting to hurt your feelings. “No, it’s so cute. Jace, isn’t it so cute?”
“Totally,” he says from the couch, not looking at you.
“No contrast, huh?” Baela muses, glancing at your shoes and clutch purse.
“Doesn’t yellow go with yellow…?”
“Of course it does.” She beams, too broadly. “Have fun tonight! Walk really slowly on the red carpet. It will feel ridiculous, but that’s how they get good photos. And cycle through four or five different poses. Count to ten in your head and then switch to the next one. And don’t smile too much! You’ll look creepy and your cheeks will get tired and go numb and you’ll start twitching. Do a small smile and then laugh a lot when the interviewers make their dumbass jokes. It’s good television and they’ll like you and give you more airtime.”
You try to commit this to memory. “Okay.”
“Here.” She gifts you an ice-cold can of La Croix, coconut flavored. “Drink this on the ride over, then make sure you have a lot of water at the premiere. Stay hydrated. Keeps you peppy and glowing.”
“Okay,” you say again, a good little foot soldier.
Baela gives you a quick hug goodbye; but you catch the way she frowns at your carefree hair, the deep but not-so-revealing V of your neckline. Maybe she’ll reconsider the implants thing, Baela’s face reads. You can feel cold beads of sweat bleeding from your ribs, your spine. Then you are out the door, descending in the elevator, trotting onto the sidewalk to find the limo already waiting there, black and sleek under a sky that is slowly sickening from midday blue to dusk embers. The windows are tinted so dark you can’t see anything from outside.
“Hey, sunshine,” Aegon says as you slide into the back where he is waiting in the suit he wears to auditions and film shoots and, apparently, premieres: skinny black tie, slightly rumpled and untucked white shirt. He sees the La Croix. “Don’t you not like that?”
“My roommate gave it to me.” You set the can, wet with condensation, in a cupholder. Aegon hands you an iced vanilla latte to replace it. And as you buckle your seatbelt and the limo driver coasts east to hook into the 110 and then heads dead north towards Downtown, Aegon pulls a tiny spiral notebook out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and reads off names to you: people who were involved in the production of the music video you filmed over a month ago, people to praise, people to thank. You’re trying to listen to him, but your thoughts are fuzzy and your heart is racing.
“What’s wrong?” Aegon asks, and you return to him and smirk guiltily.
“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.”
“Why? You’re not nervous when you’re acting.”
“Because I’ve acted a million times, but I’ve never done a red carpet before. Not even a mini one like this. What if they ask me something I’m not expecting and I freeze up? What if I accidentally offend someone? I’m always saying things that make people think I’m stupid.”
Aegon laughs lazily, peering through the window as the freeway takes you through Vermont Vista, Broadway-Manchester, Florence, blurs of houses and palm trees and graffitied concrete barriers. “Yeah, you are always saying ridiculous things. But that’s who you are, and it’s charming.”
“You think it’s charming.”
Aegon smiles at you. “I do.”
You stir your latte so the ice cubes clink together and you make a jittery little sound, half-sigh, half-whimper. Aegon puts a palm on your bare thigh, pushing the hem of your dress just above your knee; his hand is warm, and gentle, and heavy enough to ground you.
“You’re shaking,” he says, alarmed.
“Yeah,” you admit. “I’m fine. I think it’ll stop once we get there.”
Aegon lifts his hand away—no! you think, pathetically—and then unbuckles his seatbelt and crawls over to the window just behind the driver’s seat, which is all the way down. The limo driver is in his fifties, salt-and-pepper hair and a full beard, classic rock radio station. The opening notes of Dani California pump out of the speakers, the bass reverberating through the leather seats. “Hey,” Aegon says to the driver, thumping his fist on the window slot. “Roll that up.”
“Yes sir,” the driver assents immediately.
“Don’t park or unlock the doors until I tell you to.”
“Yes sir.”
The dark opaque window closes, the driver disappears, and Aegon comes back to you. He takes your half-finished latte out of your hand and places it safely in a cupholder.
You’re smiling as you ask: “What are you going to—?”
He reaches beneath your dress—tulle ruffles the color of unclouded daylight, or lemons, or butter, or sunflowers—and his fingertips know where to go, their corporeal memory is perfect, and they apply divine spiraling pressure over your panties, silk to leave no lines beneath your dress; that’s a trick Baela taught you. You gasp and clutch for the back of the seat, sweated skin on black leather, your spine arching, your blood cascading south as the freeway runs northbound.
“Are you nervous now?” Aegon whispers; and his words are taunting but his voice is hushed, and he’s in front of you, leaning in so close your lungs are filled with him, Juicy Fruit and sunlight and the heat and the city, and his other hand turns your face away from him so he won’t ruin your makeup. Instead of your lips, his mouth finds your throat and collarbones, and he kisses you there as his fingertips press down more forcefully beneath your dress, so insistent, so hungry, and you are blinded by the realization of how much you have craved him, how desperately you miss him each time you’re apart, and only being with him feels like this, you don’t belong anywhere else, and your chances to touch him are vanishing like sandcastles turned to ruins by the surf.
He’s getting married in a month.
But he’s here now, and you want him.
He’s choosing Becca.
But his hands are choosing you, and his lips, and the outline of his hardness that you can feel when he leans against your thigh, nudging your legs further apart, and surely even through the silk he can feel how wet you are.
“You shouldn’t have taken your seatbelt off,” you say breathlessly. “That’s not safe.”
Aegon laughs as if this is a ludicrous concern, and maybe he doesn’t think that dying in a car accident of a fractured skull or an aortic dissection would be the worst thing in the world. “Don’t worry about me.” He breezes the fingers of his left hand through your hair, nuzzling you, inhaling you, saccharine sweetness and young frenetic nerves, endorphins pouring from your bloodstream.
He’s good, he’s very good; but for you it can take a while, and how far is the limo from the premiere venue? “I’m not going to be able to finish—”
“Yeah you are,” Aegon says, drawing back to look at you, his eyes locked with yours; and you moan as his fingers move the strip of silk aside and sink into you, and you are filled with him as his palm keeps up the euphoric friction, and then it collides with you—knuckles, gravity, riptides, fate—and it takes everything left in you, worn wrung-out scraps, not to cry out, because you’re not alone now, and you’ve never truly been alone with him when this happens, and you know you never will be. The sweetness and the bitterness are coiled up together like threads of fabric, like the lines of a family tree.
You are still panting as Aegon sweeps his left thumbprint just beneath your eyes, clearing away the eyeliner and mascara that has begun to run as your eyes water.
“Don’t cry, sunshine,” he murmurs, concerned.
You chuckle shakily. “I’m sorry. You know I get like this.” When it’s good. When it’s with you.
“Are you still nervous?”
“No,” you answer truthfully.
“You’re going to do great.”
“What should I say?”
“Whatever you want,” Aegon tells you. “Be yourself. Be real.” Then he kisses you on your lips only once: feather-light, immaterial enough to not mar you. “Oh, we have to clean up,” he realizes, panicked, and he hasn’t thought this through.
“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”
You open the can of coconut La Croix that Baela gifted you and soak a handful of napkins that Aegon gets from the driver. You erase the evidence between your legs as best you can; Aegon cleans his hands and gives himself a generous squeeze of hand sanitizer from a tiny travel bottle in your clutch. Then he uses the corner of a napkin to dab away stray flecks of mascara on your cheeks. You check your face in the mirror of your makeup compact: dewy, but acceptable. Natural. Lived-in. Aegon rearranges a few wayward strands of your hair. You slurp down the rest of your vanilla latte. The limo is rolling to halt. You reach for the door handle.
“No,” Aegon says, stopping you. And he gets out first and then waits for you, hand open, until you emerge from the limousine and into a new world: flashbulbs, video cameras, microphones, assistants dressed in black, screaming Maroon 5 fans. Aegon fluffs the train of your electric yellow gown and then leads you into the chaos.
The music video premiere is being held at the historic Broadway Theater. The red carpet rolled out for the occasion, in a nod to the name of the band, is not a bright bloody red but a deep maroon. People are shouting and waving at you, and you have no idea what’s going on; and yet in your ribcage your heartbeat is slow and measured and strong. Aegon has a hand on the small of your back, and you think: I want it to be like this all the time. I want it to be like this forever.
Now a young man in a teal suit is rushing up to you and Aegon has disappeared to the sidelines, and the man is telling you that he is from E! News, and although he says his name you immediately forget it. You don’t panic; you smile softly and try to listen through the noise of the crowd. Now Maroon 5 has arrived and is posing for photographs as the fans screech and beg for autographs.
“So how’s your day going?” the man from E! News asks, a microphone held to your lips.
“It’s been so exciting, this morning I got to quit my job!”
The man laughs hysterically. “What? Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I’ve been working at an ice cream place for months, but not anymore!”
“And do you have a passion for ice cream?”
“Not really, I just had to pay rent, you know?”
“Girl, do I ever!” the man says, still laughing. “What’s your favorite kind of ice cream?”
You smile sheepishly. “Vanilla.”
“Oh, so you’re a vanilla girl, huh?”
“I am, I really am, and I know the joke. But vanilla can be great! It’s a classic, and it’s sweet and uncomplicated, and it’s not trying to be anything it’s not. It’s pure. It’s innocent.”
“Oh my God, that was poetry! I might have to give vanilla another shot. You’ve convinced me.”
“Cool,” you say. Aegon is watching you from behind the video camera that you’ve just noticed; he is nodding, he gives you a little thumbs-up.
The man from E! News asks next: “So, ice cream expert, if I was an ice cream flavor, which one would I be?”
You ponder this. “Well someone once told me that interesting adults like strawberry, and you seem really interesting, so I’d say you’re strawberry ice cream.”
“Adorable,” the man sighs, marveling at you. “What are you going to be up to now that you aren’t working at the ice cream shop anymore?”
“Well according to my agent—and I have the best agent in the world, he’s absolute magic—I just got my first starring role in a movie.” The E! News man shrieks in excitement. “And I can’t really tell you anything more about it just yet, because I don’t know what I’m allowed to say publicly, but I’m so so so excited and so grateful, and Los Angeles is an incredible place. I’m in heaven and I’m thrilled to be here with you tonight.”
Another E! News correspondent, a woman in a salmon-colored dress, dashes in to join the conversation. She has blindingly white veneers and so much Botox she can’t move her forehead. “Could you tell us what it was like working on this music video?”
“It was an amazing experience,” you say; and in this moment you believe that, and Dan doesn’t exist, and neither does the bathtub scene that almost happened, and neither does the terror that threatened to consume you before Aegon smothered the flames. Now, Aegon is watching closely as Dan navigates the red carpet. They make split-second eye contact, Aegon glares fiercely, Dan keeps a wide swath of space between you and him as if you are radioactive, a silent poison that cooks malignancies into blood and bones. “We filmed in this gorgeous mansion in Beverly Hills, and everyone involved in the production was so imaginative and professional. I got to wear outfits designed by Schiaparelli and Rodarte, oh, and Phoebe Philo, and the actor playing my awful ex-boyfriend was fantastic, and there were these weird exotic cats that kept trying to bite me…”
You keep talking and interviewers keep descending, appearing out of nowhere, and then you are posing on the red carpet—you even take a few awkward photos with Maroon 5, none of whom remember who you are—and to your surprise, several fans even ask you for an autograph. Without thinking, you add a tiny sun after you sign your name each time.
“There, a little bit of sunshine,” you say to a preteen girl who beams up at you. “Not that you need it, look how brightly you’re shining!”
As you are about to enter the theater, you glance back to see where Aegon has gone. An interviewer has entrapped him, although Aegon clearly resents being caught on camera. He’s a good sport though; he forces a smile and answers the questions. He’s being asked about you.
Aegon says: “She has a great attitude about work, and about life in general. She’s very talented. And obviously she’s beautiful, so…yeah. I feel really lucky to have found her. She’s usually the best part of my day.”
“And are we going to see you in any upcoming films?” the woman from Entertainment Tonight asks flirtatiously. “We all know you have the chops!”
Aegon throws his head back and cackles. “No. You wish. Okay, thank you very much for your time, I’ll talk to you afterwards.”
“Thank you, Aegon!” the interviewer calls out, waving, and you think: He really could have been a star if he never left acting.
You and Aegon sit together at the screening, and he keeps feeding you pieces of popcorn—your lips brushing his fingertips, salt stinging on your tongue—and you have to resist the urge, no, the gravity, the effortless instinct to rest your head on his shoulder. Maroon 5 do a panel after the music video and take questions from the audience. They manage a few comprehensible responses.
Afterwards, Aegon doesn’t take you straight home to Harbor Gateway. He doesn’t take you to his office in Elysian Park either. Instead, he tells the limo driver to follow the 101 northwest to Hollywood, and he drags you out into the cool indigo night—veined with florescence and neon—and onto the intersection of Vine Street and Sunset Boulevard at the genesis of the Walk of Fame, a trail of 2,800 stars carved into the sidewalk, into eternity.
Aegon stands on a star of this earthbound constellation and says: “You’re going to have one of these someday.”
And here under the aisle of a streetlight with Aegon smiling like that, kind and radiant, you could almost believe him.
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she-is-ovarit · 9 months ago
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A Glance at Women's Oppression
Oppression may be measured by assessing socio-structural conditions. Males oppress female human beings on the axis of sex, and this pattern has been recognized across several disciplines of scientific research.
Violence Against Women
One in three women globally experience physical or sexual violence.
More than 1 in 4 women (26%) aged 15 years and older have suffered violence at the hands of their partners at least once since the age of 15.
The vast majority of substantial research on violence against women in the United States is now 20+ years old :)
As high as 64 - 84% of cases of sexual violence go unreported, so these estimates are low.
A male perpetrator was reported in 98% of cases of violence against both men and women.
58% of all women murdered in 2017 were killed by an intimate partner or a family member (source. United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime, 2018).
80% of women are victims or survivors of corrosive violence - aka "acid attacks". 60% of these attacks go unreported, most instigators of acid attacks are male, and there has been a 90% increase in these attacks in the last 10 years, with the UK being the country with the highest rate of acid attacks.
Worldwide 1 in 5 girls are married off usually to men twice their age or more.
Globally, as many as 38% of murders of women are committed by a male intimate partner.
200 million women have experienced female genital mutilation/cutting.
71% of all human trafficking involves women and girls – mainly for sexual exploitation (source. UNODC, 2016).
The killing of women accused of sorcery/witchcraft is reported as a significant phenomenon in countries in Africa, Asia and the Pacific Islands.
Many women are killed specifically in "honor killings" - to defend the honor of a man.
200 million girls experience female genital mutilation.
National studies indicate indicate that as many as 4 million women are battered each year, but only about 48 percent of these cases are reported to the police.
Violence against women meets the requirements of widely accepted definitions of hate crimes, but crimes motivated by hatred of women are not included in most antibias crime legislation.
Medical Misogyny
The disregard of pain and illness by medical professionals
This doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of this, but: women are seven times more likely to be misdiagnosed and discharged than men in the middle of having a heart attack. 70% of the people who experience chronic pain are female, but 80% of chronic pain studies have been conducted on males or male mice. Women also wait longer for a diagnosis and pain management than men.
Lack of research: the vast majority of scientific understanding and research on human beings conducted globally has been on males.
Period poverty and death due to misogynistic period shame (and I hope that this is obvious, but I am on Tumblr so I will emphasize that 100% of these deaths, illnesses, and disabilities are happening to female human beings.
Reproductive exploitation, discrimination, and control
Women across many countries have little to no access to abortions and other reproductive care, and are forced to carry their rapist's child.
Women are imprisoned for having abortions, and even people associated with helping them in any way to obtain an abortion experience legal consequences. Being impregnated through rape doesn't change this. In multiple states, rapists can sue their victims for parental custody. Women who are victims of stalkers and had children with them also are forced into allowing them visitation in the vast majority of cases.
Women also experience the brunt of forced sterilization and uniquely endure mortality rates from childbirth complications, in which often the infant's life is prioritized over the mother. Doctors may also refuse women and girls birth control, or subsequently deny women's requests to be sterilized.
Being forced to co-parent with their rapist.
Even if rape is proven, men can sue their victims for custody and may use children as a point of control over their victims and contact with their victims continuing psychological terror and causing trauma to children.
Over 3 million women experience pregnancies as a result of rape.
Men who donate sperm privately and through sperm banks experience no regulations and enforcement of how often they donate, resulting in some men producing thousands of offspring and others deceiving women on whose sperm they were impregnated with. Mothers of these children endure severe psychological trauma from this rape by deception in addition to themselves and their children navigating the psychological effects of avoiding potential incestuous relationships with the donor's other children.
Job Discrimination
In 38 countries, women can be fired for being pregnant.
From January 2017 through December 2019, 2.7 million workers age 20 and older were displaced from jobs they had held for at least 3 years; women accounted for 45 percent of those displaced.
While on leave, substantially fewer women than men
receive full pay (32 percent versus 55 percent), and more
receive no pay (41 percent versus 25 percent).
Women continue to experience occupational segregation in nontraditional jobs. In 2013, women composed 7.3 percent of all Craft Workers, while the participation rate for women in the Office and Clerical Worker category was considerably higher at 75.6 percent.
Despite the gains in employment made by women in the last 50 years, the annual median earnings of women working full time in 2013 was $39,157, compared with men at $50,033.
In 86 countries, women face some form of job restriction and 95 countries do not guarantee equal pay for equal work. 59 nations have no laws on the books addressing sexual harassment in the workplace, and 18 nations around the world allow husbands to legally prevent their wives from working.
Influence and resources:
Less than 15% of landholders worldwide are women, despite most women in the global south working in agriculture (source. Food and Agriculture Organization, 2015; World Bank, 2019).
Women make up just 25% of parliamentarians worldwide (source. Inter-Parliamentary Union, 2019).
Between 1990 and 2019 women made up 2% of mediators, 5% of witnesses and signatories, and 8% of negotiators in major peace processes worldwide (source. Council of Foreign Relations, 2019).
Only 1% of aid supporting gender equality went to women’s rights organisations in 2016-2017, despite governments around the world committing an extra $1bn to gender equality initiatives globally (sources. Guardian, 2019, OECD, 2019).
130 million girls are denied the right to an education.
According to the largest study on the portrayal, participation and representation of women in the news media spanning 20 years and 114 countries, only 24 per cent of the persons heard, read about or seen in newspaper, television and radio news are women.
A glass ceiling also exists for women news reporters in newspaper bylines and newscast reports, with 37 per cent of stories reported by women as of 2015, showing no change over the course of a decade.
An analysis of popular films across 11 countries found, for example, that 31 per cent of all speaking characters were women and that only 23 per cent featured a female protagonist—a number that closely mirrored the percentage of women filmmakers (21 per cent)
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wandafiction · 1 year ago
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Just Us - Series List Chapter 1 -98
Y/n is a multimillionaire. Wanda Maximoff is a divorced mum of two twin boys who is trying her best. What happens when their paths cross at a club and Y/n takes Wanda home for the night?
Warnings: This story is an 18+ read, Minors DNI, contains talks and description of Death, Accidents, Injury, Child Loss, Abuse (Physical and Emotional), Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Suggestive themes, Smut (Each Chapter With Themes Explained), Angst (Lots of It), And Some Fluff Thrown in because I felt bad. Top Reader, Bottom Wanda
Each chapter will come with their own warnings.
This is a story that I have put up on my Wattpad and my Ao3 and thought I would share it here for more of you wonderful people. I do hope you enjoy this read. There will be mistakes here and there and maybe some incorrect translations.
So this is an AU story with the MCU characters. So the ages and story lines with be changed and different from that in the movies. 
I will right some history for each character as the story progresses just so ages and other things make sense. 
All the Character's in this are played by their respective actors and certain aspects of the MCU have been added in. But once again its not going to be an alternative marvel story it is a completely different universe. 
I don't own any if the MCU characters.
Master List
Chapter List
Chapter 1 - Yours or Mine
Chapter 2 18+ - First Time
Chapter 3 - How Much
Chapter 4 18+ - Beautiful
Chapter 5 - Accent
Chapter 6 - The Twins
Chapter 7 - Just Add 8
Chapter 8 - Panic Attack
Chapter 9 - Sounds Like A date
Chapter 10 - Happy Tears
Chapter 11 - Twenty Percent
Chapter 12 - Favourite Colour
Chapter 13 - Ex-husbands Clothes
Chapter 14 18+ - Trust is Not Like Candy
Chapter 15 - Morning Bliss
Chapter 16 - Sisterly Advice
Chapter 17 - Lunch Date
Chapter 18 - Not By Blood, By Choice
Chapter 19 18+ - Frozen Peas
Chapter 20 - Scarlet Witch
Chapter 21 - Iron Man
Chapter 22 18+ - Love Language
Chapter 23 - The Friends
Chapter 24 - Hela's Kitchen
Chapter 25 - The Question
Chapter 26 - From Second To First
Chapter 27 - Mr Blue Sky
Chapter 28 - Protective Friend
Chapter 29 - It's Real To Me
Chapter 30 - Pile On
Chapter 31 18+ - Water Fight
Chapter 32 - Head Scratches
Chapter 33 - Billy's Discovery
Chapter 34 - Superhero Trio
Chapter 35 - Pancakes and L Bombs.
Chapter 36 - 10 Out Of 10 Dive
Chapter 37 - Tickle Monster
Chapter 38 - Sarah Stark
Chapter 39 - Love Persevering
Chapter 40 - First Meeting
Chapter 41 - Hear, Listen, Take It In
Chapter 42 - Touch
Chapter 43 - Mockingbird
Chapter 44 - Family
Chapter 45 - Search Party
Chapter 46 - Bowl Of Popcorn
Chapter 47 - Pet Names
Chapter 48 18+ - Trying Something New
Chapter 49 - French Braids
Chapter 50 - Not Taking Advantage
Chapter 51 - To Understand Someone
Chapter 52 - The Row
Chapter 53 18+ - I Need You
Chapter 54 - Your Flaws Are Your Strengths
Chapter 55 18+ - Jealousy
Chapter 56 - I Can't Be Here
Chapter 57 - Stephanie Grace Turner
Chapter 58 - Zak The Waiter
Chapter 59 18+ - Declarations
Chapter 60 - Clingy
Chapter 61 - Triple Chocolate Brownies
Chapter 62 - Watch Me
Chapter 63 - Grown-Up Conversations
Chapter 64 - A+
Chapter 65 18+ - Dynamic
Chapter 66 - You Don't Get It
Chapter 67 - Conditioned
Chapter 68 - Selachimorpha
Chapter 69 - Beed Stroganoff
Chapter 70 - Ruby-Throated Hummingbird
Chapter 71 - Realisations
Chapter 72 - Princess
Chapter 73 - The Talk
Chapter 74 - Black Widow
Chapter 75 - Can I Join You
Chapter 76 - Люли, люли, люленьки
Chapter 77 - Moose
Chapter 78 - Aurora Borealis
Chapter 79 - Calgary
Chapter 80 18+ - Mirror
Chapter 81 - Massage and Important Conversations
Chapter 82 - Banff
Chapter 83 - Strawberries
Chapter 84 - Bayushki Bayu
Chapter 85 - Cookies
Chapter 86 18+ - Control
Chapter 87 - Hyper Puppy
Chapter 88 - Treehouse
Chapter 89 - 312
Chapter 90 - Forgiveness
Chapter 91 18+ - Always Feel Good
Chapter 92 - Your Third Love
Chapter 93 18+ - Daddy
Chapter 94 - Home
Chapter 95 - Stalker
Chapter 96 - Can't Catch A Break
Chapter 97 18+ - Mile High Club
Chapter 98 - Happy
Series List 99 -
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whencyclopedia · 4 months ago
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Lindow Man
The Lindow Man (officially Lindow III) is the top half of a male body, found preserved in a peat bog in Cheshire, England.
The peat bogs at Lindow Moss date back to the last ice age and were formed by holes of melting ice; they are now a tenth of their original size. Bogs often lead to the preservation of organic materials, particularly human remains, being acidic, cold, and devoid of oxygen. The brown colour of the skin, leathery texture, and appearance of human remains preserved in a bog are due to a type of moss that grows in bogs and when dead, lets out a substance that causes a tanning process.
During 1980s CE a series of finds were made at Lindow Moss by workers at a peat shredding mill (peat was then being harvested as fuel). These discoveries were small parts of the human anatomy, for example, a head known as the Lindow Woman and several limbs of other individuals. The most famous, largest, and important of these discoveries is the top half of a male body (the bottom half possibly lost when a digger cut up the bog) found in the summer of 1984 CE and called the Lindow Man. What is noticeable about this example and significant for study is that the hair, skin, and several of his integral organs were preserved. The body and surrounding section of peat were removed whole and taken away for study by a team led by British Museum scientists. Once safe in a laboratory it was the focus of analysis and has caused a great deal of excitement, producing an unprecedented investigation.
The beard, sideburns, and moustache made it instantly clear that the body was male. By calculating the length of his upper arm bone, it was estimated that he would have been between 1.68 m and 1.73 m tall. He was also well built, weighing around 64 kg. He was radiocarbon dated to between 2 BCE and 119 CE and was about 25 years old at the time of death. He was unclothed, apart from a fox fur armband. Using scanning electron microscopy researchers found that his hair and beard had been trimmed with a pair of scissors or shears. It is thought that he did not do any rough work or hard labour, based on his nails which were all manicured. Although the acid in the bog had removed all of the enamel from his teeth, there were no visible cavities, and what was left looked normal. Overall he appears to have been fairly healthy, but had slight osteoarthritis and an infestation of parasitic worms. It has even been possible to discover his blood group, O. Food residue discovered in his upper alimentary tract shows that his last meal was a griddle cake made from wheat and barley.
The reasons and cause of death have caused debate between scholars. There are signs of two blows to the top of the head with a heavy and bladed weapon and also a knife wound to the throat. There is also evidence for a blow to the back, by a broken rib. He had a thin cord around his neck which may have been used to strangle and break his neck, but some have argued that it was simply a necklace, because it is knotted in a decorative manner. Once dead he was placed face down in the bog. This horrific death may have been a ritual killing, a human sacrifice carried out, perhaps by the Druids. Or he could have been executed as a criminal or murdered by thieves, or if he was someone of stature, by his enemies. It is almost impossible to know for sure why he died, but the Lindow Man has provided valuable information and been subjected to more tests than any other ancient human being.
He was conserved by immersing him in a mixture of polyethylene glycol to prevent shrinking and then wrapped in cling film, frozen, and then finally freeze-dried. He is now on display in the British Museum.
Continue reading...
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aliendes · 4 months ago
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One More Day (S.Coups)
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a/n: SURPRISE! posting a day early cause ill be out of town tomorrow. here is 64 pages or 33k words of a cheol Christmas fic! reminders to HEAD THE WARNINGS, there is some deep stuff in this one. MDNI as always, esp since there is an added smut scene at the end. alsooooo remember this is a rewrite to a fic i did in 2020, so if it feels familiar, that is why. there are lots of addedd things and scenes, tho so hopefully it feels different enough. i only proofread this once cause its a doozy so if you see mistakes or I need to update tags PLS let me know. anywayyyyys, here's my behemoth of a fic. enjoy! warnings under the cut
w/c: 33.3k~ whoooooooooa!
banners & images made by me!
warnings: NSFW, smut MDNI, minor character deaths, talks of car accidents, su*cide attempt, talks of past attempts, reader is depressed af, drinking, eating, reader smokes cigarettes (its a plot point ok), cheol maybe ooc?, kissing, cursing, fingering, oral fem receiving, soft sex, messy dirty sex but make it loving, breeding kink KIND OF, p in v sex, no protection reader is on birth control, blonde seungcheol (yes that's a warning) and joshua is an asshole for the first half of the fic don't worry it gets better. let me know if I missed anything
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You stood on the deck of your parents cabin, staring out at the frozen over lake, shrouded in darkness. You couldn’t remember what time it was, or really even what day it was, just that you needed to get away for awhile. Your breath was turning into white clouds around your face, and then drifting up into the atmosphere. It was calming in a way. Freezing, but calming. 
It was the middle of December, nearly Christmas, what used to be your favorite time of year. You and your mom, dad, and older brother Joshua would come up to this cabin and spend two weeks at the end of every year. Your dad and brother would always find the tallest tree for the living room of the cabin, with it’s high vaulted ceilings. You and your mom would spend hours decorating the tree, always turning out like a Better Homes & Garden magazine cover. Your mom loved to decorate, and she was damn good at it. You and Joshua would bake cookies together, despite your mom’s protests over Joshua being in the kitchen. He was always a disaster waiting to happen when you were younger, though that has changed with age. You can still taste the gingerbread like it was yesterday. You smiled slightly, remembering what Christmas used to be like. Now, Christmas was a shitty reminder of what used to be.
It’s been 7 years since the last time you were all together at this cabin. Nearly 6 years since your parents death, and 3 years since you last saw or spoke to your brother. You knew he was doing well, living it up in the big city of Seoul. He was a big-shot writer, and you would hear about him and his accomplishments through friends of friends or your neighborhood aunties. You were proud of him. Not that he would ever believe that, and it’s not like you would ever have the chance to tell him.
For the last few years, you had been coming up to the cabin alone. You always took two weeks off work and spent that time trying to keep your parents spirits alive in the form of Christmas cookies and movies. It was your own way of coping with their absence. Joshua found his ways of coping by blocking the memories out, you found yours in a glass of wine and a couple cigarettes out on this deck. Speaking of which, you should probably light one up now, you’ve been standing here for a while now.
Just as you were reaching in your pocket for your lighter, you heard a snapping sound from the left of the deck, startling you in your place, cigarette still hanging from your chapped lips. You turned your head towards the noise, face scrunched in confusion, almost giving yourself whiplash. No one should be out here at this time, you thought to yourself. You pocketed your lighter and took the cigarette between your fingers, slowly walking towards the edge of the deck. Sue you, you had a curious mind. Joshua always used to tell you it would get you killed one day. Not like you cared much anymore. 
“Holy shit!” you gasped, nearly throwing your cigarette, when you saw a figure walk out from between the trees lining your property and the one next to it. It was a man you didn’t recognize. You squint your eyes slightly to try and see better in the dark. He stepped closer to your with both hands raised in front of him as a way to placate you.
“Sorry! I’m sorry! I -” he started, but trailed off almost like he forgot what he was going to say. You raised a brow at him, still unsure of the stranger. “I’m Choi Seungcheol, I live next door. I promise I’m not a creep or anything, I just noticed you standing out here for a while and wanted to make sure you weren’t locked out or something, I - I, yeah that sounded creepy. I’m sorry.” He rushed out the last words, looking almost sheepish. 
Cute.
You stood there for a second too long, and Seungcheol, as you now knew him, looked almost like he was about to bolt back in the direction he came. “I - I’m sorry, I’ll g-”
“No, it’s ok.” You let out a deep sigh and chuckled darkly, no humor to be found. “You just startled me, is all.” You said with what you hoped was a small smile. It wasn’t, Seungcheol noted, but he didn’t care, just glad you were responding at all.
Another beat passes, “... so are you alright - did you need help?” He drawled, unsure of where the conversation was headed. 
“No, no. This is my par- mine- my house. Well, not my permanent house, but you probably already knew that.” You stuttered. He must’ve realized the house next door to him was vacant 11 months out of the year, right?
 “Ah yeah, I kind of figured that out.” he took a hesitant step forward. When he saw you weren’t running for the hills, he slowly made his way into the illumination provided by the floodlights on the back porch. You took in his features now that you could see them better. He had bleach blonde hair that looked a little fried, but that suited him nicely, large, doe-like brown eyes, and plump, cherry-like lips that were more than a little distracting. Had you not been in a crippling depression, you may have thought he was pretty handsome, you may have shot your shot with this pretty neighbor. He ran his hand through his yellow  locks, “This house is usually empty, I only notice it occupied around this time of year. I’m assuming it’s your vacation house? You said it’s your parents place, right?” He took hesitant steps up to the deck.
So he caught that. Damn. “Was.” You stated simply. “It was my parents place. It’s mine now, I come here alone.” Seungcheol knew that. He’s lived next door for 8 years now, on and off. Every Christmas for the last few years, you’d been alone. He wasn’t a creeper, but he did notice you smoking those nasty cigarettes out on this very deck, alone, every single year. He remembers you used to come here with someone. A boyfriend maybe? It wasn’t his place to ask. 
He’s at the bottom of the steps that lead up to your deck, looking up at you with an unreadable expression. Pity? No, there’s no way he knows what’s going on in your mind. He hesitates a moment before - “Are you ok?” 
The question catches you off guard. Were you ok? You knew the answer was a big, fat no. But was that something you should share with him? A near stranger? Aside from the obvious questions you had, when was the last time someone asked you that? You couldn’t remember anyone caring enough about you in the last few years to even utter those words to you. The only people you interacted with were your coworkers, who didn’t give a shit about your personal life. All your boss cared about was that you got the job done, not about your emotions. You almost wanted to trust this man, share with him how you’re feeling, God knows you need it. You’ve been staring at him for too long, he must think you’re crazy now. You shake your head slightly to rid yourself of the thought. “Yeah. Yeah I’m good.” You mutter, looking anywhere but his eyes. 
He pauses for a moment before speaking slowly. “Look, it’s not really my place to pry, but you’ve been standing out here in the freezing cold for over an hour.” Had it really been that long? Now that you think about it your hands and face were pretty freezing. “Do you want to maybe go inside?”
“With you?” you asked, slightly startled at his proposition. 
His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, and you had a distant thought that he looked oddly adorable like that. “No! No, no. I mean unless you want to come to my house?” He half asked, slightly confused, eyes narrowing at his own question, shaking his head. “I just meant, you aren’t really dressed for the 3 degree weather, don’t you think you should maybe head back inside?” 
Oh. He was just being nice. You weren’t used to this. Leave it to you to jump to weird conclusions. You cocked your head to the side, looking at him with a dumb look. “Yeah…” you trailed off. “I was actually just about to smoke a cigarette, then I’ll head inside.” He gave you another unreadable look, and slowly started to nod.
“O- ok then.” He seemed like he wanted to say more, but stopped himself.
“Do you smoke?”
“Oh no, I don’t. Thank you though.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but at you, like he didn’t want to offend you.
“I’m not offended you know, I know most people think it’s a nasty habit.” You took the lighter back out of your front pocket and put the cigarette to your now very cold, very dry lips. “Want to sit with me?” You asked after you took your first drag of the cigarette.
Seungcheol looked back towards his house, and then back at you. “Yeah, let me go grab a coat and I’ll be right back.” he stuttered out. You hadn’t even noticed he was only wearing jeans and a flannel. Poor guy, you’ve been staring stupidly at him for at least 15 minutes, he must be freezing by now. 
“Take your time.” You waved him off as he jogged briskly past the trees and shrubs. You watched him enter his back porch and saw a few lights flicker on, then off again. Taking another drag from your cigarette, you looked back out over the lake. Leaning your elbows on the deck railing, you realized you were, in fact, freezing in nothing but a long sleeve t-shirt and pajama pants. You didn’t intend to be out here this long, only meaning to smoke one cigarette and head back inside, only to lose track of time.
“Want to sit down?” Seungcheol’s voice snapped you out of your reverie, slightly startling you. “Sorry - didn’t mean to scare you again” he laughed dryly. He pulled a couple of the deck chairs closer to the railing and sat down. It was then that you noticed he was now wearing a thick winter coat, and in his hands he held another coat, and what looked suspiciously like a blanket. You raised an eyebrow at him, but slowly walked towards the chair, holding your cigarette away from Seungcheol, respectful of others' distaste for the smell.
As you sat down in the chair to Seungcheol’s right, he dully shook the coat he was holding in your direction with a raised brow. A silent offering. “Thanks.” You muttered lamely, taking the coat from him. It was thick, and smelled citrus-y. Oranges? With maybe a hint of cloves. It smelled manly, it smelled nice, wrapping you in his scent when you threw it over your shoulders. 
“No problem” he gruffed out. His deep voice was soothing your cold soul at the moment, a feeling you haven’t had in a long time. “I- I brought a blanket” he hesitates, slowly unfolding the blanket, watching your face to make sure what he was about to do was alright, “is this ok?” he asks as he set the unfolded blanket over yours and his legs. You nod at him, taking another drag from your cigarette. Once the blanket is situated, he grabs one of the legs of your chair and pulls it closer to his in a quick show of strength, so the blanket drapes all the way over you. You offer him a small smile, and then turn your head to blow the smoke in the other direction. “I don’t mind the smoke, you know. My older brother smokes like a train, I’m used to it.” 
You smirk at him. “Are you implying I smoke like a train?”
“N-no! No, of course not - that’s not, that isn’t” he starts to stutter, shaking his head, thick eyebrows scrunching cutely.
“Relax, Seungcheol. I was kidding.” You let out as you exhale your last bit of smoke, putting your cigarette out on the deck floor. You should probably bring an ashtray up here with you next time you visit, which was becoming more and more infrequent as time went on. You used to come up here in the summer with Joshua, too, but those days were long gone. 
He ducked his head slightly, the flood light illuminating the side of his face from behin. He really was beautiful, you noticed. A strong, slanted nose, with cute puffy cheeks, a defined jawline and those plump lips. They were a little red from being out in the cold, but cute nonetheless. They kind of reminded you of cherries. 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that..” he starts to trail off, realizing he doesn’t know your name.
“YN. Sorry - my name is YN.” You stutter out, embarrassed at not having had the manners to introduce yourself before.
“YN.” He tries it out on his tongue. He likes the way it sounds. “Pretty.” He noted, face heating after he realized what he said. You smiled at him, the first genuine smile he’s seen all night and he realizes he likes it, and wants to see more of it, preferably in the near future. He gives you a bright smile in return. “What brings you out here, at -” he quickly pulls his phone from his pocket and glances at the time, “- nearly midnight?”
“Oh you know, just dealing with life.” You glance out into the distance, back at that damned lake. Seungcheol must have sensed your distress, because he is quickly switching the subject.
“It’s really pretty out here this time of year.” He states, lamely, looking out at the lake with you. “The lake freezes over in November, makes for some really beautiful scenery.” 
“Yeah… I know. I’ve been coming here with my family since I was 8.” You didn’t take your focus away from the lake as you spoke. 
“What… happened? If you don’t mind me asking.” Seungcheol quickly read the expression on your face and added, “You totally don’t have to answer that, I’m sorry, that was a dumb question.”
“No, it’s ok actually. I haven’t really talked about it in a while.” You chanced a glance at Seungcheol, his expression serious, focused completely on you. You were taken aback for a brief moment, wondering what was making you trust this man, before you went on, “My parents died almost 6 years ago. We used to come out here as a family every Christmas for the last two weeks of the year. I still make the trip every year to keep their memory, alive? I guess. That sounds kind of stupid saying it out loud.”
“No it doesn’t,” Seungcheol stated simply, “That makes perfect sense. You feel closer to them when you’re here, right?” You slowly nodded, still staring into his deep brown orbs. “Look, at the risk of making myself seem like a peeping Tom, I noticed you used to come here with a man, but I haven’t seen him in a while. Is everything ok with…?” His question trailed off. So he has noticed you before.
“Joshua,” you said, turning your head away, “my brother.” 
Your brother. He didn’t expect that at all. From what little glimpses he saw of the two of you, you always seemed like a bickering couple, and you didn’t look all that similar either, at least from what he can remember. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.” 
“No it’s fine, you’re very observant, you know. How long have you lived there, exactly?” You asked, turning back to look at the sweet man beside you, gesturing towards his home.
“Almost 8 years. Inherited the place from my grandmother. The first few years I was only here on and off, still living mostly in Daegu. Fully moved in about 5 years ago.” His expression changed, looking like he was reminiscing on the past.
“So you must’ve seen me and Shua coming together before. He hasn’t come up here with me in three years. We don’t - we’re not really on good terms. He lives a couple hours away.” You left it at that, not really wanting to indulge in the reason why you weren’t on good terms. That was a conversation for another day. Your stomach dropped at the thought of talking to Joshua again. You were lost in the feeling for a moment before Seungcheol was speaking.
“I get that. Me and my brother barely speak either. I can’t even remember the last time I saw him to be honest.” He gives you a sad smile, which you return. You’re unsure why you feel like you’ve known Seungcheol longer than an hour, but he makes you feel warm in the middle of the harsh winter. You noticed his cheeks were becoming increasingly red and cursed yourself for being so inconsiderate.
“Do you, uh, do you want to go inside? I can make hot chocolate, or something…” you trail off dumbly. 
“Uh, y-yeah that sounds nice”, he faltered, grabbing the blanket draped over you, folding it neatly before ascending from his chair. You get up quickly to follow after him, moving towards the back door of your cabin. You didn’t realize just how cold you were until you opened the sliding glass door and a wall of heat hit you in the face. 
“Wow, I must have been out there a while. I’m freezing.” You chirped as you slid the door closed after Seungcheol stepped inside the threshold. 
Seungcheol pegged you with a questioning look, and at first you thought he must think you’re insane, before he said, “If you want, you can show me where you keep the hot chocolate and you can go take a hot shower, or something?” he faltered before adding, “I mean, if that’s ok with you, I know you barely know me-”
You cut him off before he could start babbling again, though it was adorable, giving him a soft smile. “That would be really nice actually,” you said, leading him to the kitchen. “I’m not sure what all I have stocked up here, but you should find everything you need in the tea cabinet, above the stove,” you pointed to the stove, “and the mugs are in the cabinet next to the fridge. Feel free to make whatever you’d like. I’ll be down the hall, second door on the right if you need me.” You smiled at him again, causing him to internally melt at the sight, “Thank you, Seungcheol.” The sincerity in your tone hurt him. He could tell by the way you looked at him that you haven’t been thankful for anyone or anything in a while and he didn’t like that. 
“Of course,” he croaked, I’d do anything to make you smile, he wanted to add, but didn’t. He just watched you trudge off to what he presumed was the bathroom. He mentally slapped himself. Why was he acting like an idiot in front of this girl he hardly knew? He knew it was because he has seen your sad eyes staring out at the lake for the past three days now, and years before that. Watched you stand, emotionless, wondering what was going through your mind. He’s perceptive, you told him that earlier, and it was true. Though he never had the guts before tonight to approach you. Now that he has, and now that he’s seen what a smile looks like on your face, he never wants it to disappear again. He’s too empathetic, a trait he inherited from his mother, sometimes to a fault. But he didn’t care right now. Right now, he just wanted to make you happy, even if it was just for tonight. 
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You let the hot water fall over your face, reveling in the way the steam was making your muscles feel. Even though your body was relaxing, your mind was starting to real. You think it’s December 21st, just a few days before Christmas, though you aren’t entirely sure. You’d sort of let time slip away from you. You’d arrived at the cabin three days prior, and would remain here for another week and a half. Usually, when you came to the cabin alone, you spent those two weeks wallowing in self pity, drinking yourself to near death. This was the first time you’ve had any interaction at the cabin in three years. Thinking back to three years ago, you recall your lowest moment at the cabin. The reason for the downfall of yours and Joshua’s relationship.
It was Christmas Eve, and you had just finished off a bottle of your favorite wine. The fireplace was going, and some sappy Lifetime movie was playing in the background. Not that you were paying attention in the least. You and Shua had just fought over staying an extra day. You wanted to stay, spend some time together since you didn’t get to see him often since he moved, but he wanted to go back to Seoul to his girlfriend, Yuna. You never really liked her, but that’s beside the point. He was in his room, probably on the phone with her if the soft whispers were anything to go by, while you were on the couch in the living room. You had just poured yourself another glass of wine and were staring out the large bay windows that had a beautiful view of the lake. You used to love that lake when you were a kid. You and Shua would swing on the tire swing attached to the tree that was partially submerged in the lake when your parents would take you up here in the summers. In the winter, you and Shua would walk along the edge of the frozen water, admiring the beauty of it, listening to nature. Joshua always did love all the little animals he would find down there, and the insects that he would find and chase you with. But now, as you looked out at the dark abyss of a lake, it only haunted you with memories of your parents.
You had contemplated it before, but was never brave enough to act. At that moment, though, you really didn’t think there was anything left to live for. Everything had fallen apart. Your parents were gone, your brother hated you, and you isolated yourself from all your friends so long ago, you really didn’t have anyone left. All you could think about, as tears streamed down your face, was how Shua wouldn’t care if you were gone, too. Your parents weren’t there anymore to care. You would be doing him a favor, right? He didn’t want to be around you, so if you weren’t here, he wouldn’t have to worry about your nagging anymore. 
It really wouldn’t be that hard, would it? If Joshua really did leave and head back to Seoul, he wouldn’t even know. He called you, what, maybe twice a year? He wouldn’t be able to stop you, he probably wouldn’t even find out for a while. He could continue living his perfect city life with his perfect city girlfriend for another few weeks, months even, before he realized you were gone.
It’s a thought that would linger in your mind every single winter following the last one you spent with your brother at the lake house. 
Shaking your head, you’re brought back into the present. Were there tears streaming down your face, or was it the water from the shower? The choked up feeling in your throat pointed towards the former. Great. Could Seungcheol hear you? You hoped not. God, you hoped not. He seemed like such a sweet guy, kind and soft. You didn’t want to bring him down in your spiral and potentially scare away the only human interaction you’ve had in a while. He really didn’t need to see how down in the dumps you really were, you didn’t need to ruin this poor guy’s Christmas.
Little did you know, Seungcheol did you hear you. He had finished making hot chocolate a few minutes before he heard soft whimpers coming from the hallway. He immediately made his way towards the noise, realising that once he reached the bathroom door, he could hear you quietly sniffling in the shower. His heart sank at the sound. He didn’t knock, he knew he shouldn't. Knew he should give you privacy. But God, did he want to. Wanted to pull you into his arms, tell you that everything was going to be ok, and see that gorgeous smile again. But it wasn’t his place, and he knew that. So he walked back to the kitchen, solemn expression on his face, and waited patiently for you to calm yourself, wishing that he could be the one to do it for you. 
Seungcheol was unsure why he felt the need to comfort you. He hardly knew you, apart from what he’s seen of you over the years. Still, those glimpses weren’t really telling of what kind of person you were. You seemed kind, warm-hearted. You let him into your home, or your parent’s home, he guessed, when you saw that he was cold. You trusted him enough to dawdle about in your kitchen while you showered. That had to take some real trust, what if he was some psycho stalker? He wasn’t, of course. But you didn’t know that. He could be a serial axe-murderer!
The trust you put in him told him one of two things - you we’re either a very trusting person, or you had no fear, nothing to lose if he was in fact, an axe-murderer. The latter made him feel sick to his stomach. He figured you were going through a lot, but it’s been years since your parents death, you should be feeling somewhat better, right? No, he knew that wasn’t true. The pain of losing someone you love never goes away, he knew that better than anyone, and he didn’t even know the circumstances surrounding their death, or the fallout between you and your brother. Another thing he had intimate knowledge of. Either way, when he looked in your eyes, he saw a sad, broken girl. He’s been that sad, broken person before, and he wanted to help you through it.
Maybe his empathy wasn’t such a bad thing afterall. Maybe he could offer you something, anything, even just companionship, to help get through the holidays. So, he waited at your kitchen island, rewarming your mug of hot chocolate every five or so minutes, until you finally felt ready to come out of the bathroom. 
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As you slowly towel dried your hair, you stared at your reddened eyes in the bathroom mirror. You knew Seungcheol was probably waiting in the kitchen for you, with long cold drinks, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of this handsome stranger with your tears. You splashed some cool water on your face and applied some moisturizer from you travel kit to attempt to even out the redness of your face.
After you were satisfied with the puffiness, you threw on your pajama shorts and t-shirt you had brought with you from your room, and left your hair wrapped up in a towel. Who were you trying to impress, really? You barely knew Seungcheol, despite the fact that you felt safe around him. He could be some psycho for all you knew. What you did know is at the end of these two weeks you would go your separate ways and probably not speak again until next Christmas, if you even made it to next Christmas. The thought didn’t make you shudder like it used to, and while it should’ve been concerning, it wasn’t. Not anymore. 
Taking one last look in the mirror, you hesitantly made your way out of the bathroom and down the hallway, where you could hear the clinking of glasses coming from the kitchen. Curious, you sped up a little, until you reached the open floor plan kitchen of your cabin, shooting Seungcheol a questioning look.
“Oh! Sorry - I just saw that you have some dishes in the sink, I just wanted to help. Sorry.” He looked sheepish, and you thought it was rather cute how much he apologized for things. 
“Thanks, but you really don’t have to,” you offered shyly, feeling slightly embarrassed he saw your mess, and sat at one of the barstools in front of the kitchen island, “Did you find the drinks ok?” 
“Oh yeah - they cooled down a bit, so I warmed it up in the microwave.”
You smiled at his thoughtfulness, taking the warm mug from him. Seungcheol knew that you had been crying, could see the puffiness in your eyes, but seeing you smile, even slightly, made his boba colored eyes light up. He watched as you rose from your seat, mug in hand, and made your way around the kitchen island. For a second, he thought you were going to approach him, but you walked right past him towards the fridge. You reached your short arms up and grabbed at a bottle sitting on top of the refrigerator, pulling it down and setting it on the counter. He watched on curiously as you opened the, almost empty, bottle of rum and poured some into your mug. You turned around, raising an eyebrow at his questioning look, “want some?” 
“Oh, uh, no thank you. It’s really late”, he advised hesitantly, sneaking a glance at the microwave clock. He didn’t want to upset you, didn’t want to overstep bounds as you were an adult after all, but he was also questioning your current state of mind. He figured staying sober would probably be the smart thing to do.
“I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, if any of this makes you feel uncomfortable, you can leave. I’m trying my best to keep my head above water right now, both figuratively and literally.” You don’t know why you just said that to your neighbor, but you did and there was no taking it back. Realizing the weight of your words, you swallow loudly and paused. You removed your gaze from Seungcheol’s, slowly walking towards your living room to have a seat on the plush couch, ignoring the look he was giving your back. You never got around to redecorating the place after your parents death. It was almost like taking a step back into the past when you came up here. 
Seungcheol’s eyes widened a fraction before he schooled his expression, following behind you, almost forgetting his drink but grabbing it at the last second. “YN, do you want to talk about it? I know we just met, but I want you to know, I’m here for you. Or, I can be. Whatever you need. Someone to listen, make you hot chocolate, whatever you need.” He gave you a sad smile and sat across from you on the loveseat, setting his mug down on the coffee table. 
You took another sip of your spiked hot chocolate, reveling in the burn at the back of your throat, before following Seungcheol’s lead and setting it on the coffee table. “Why are you so nice to me? You barely know me,” you questioned him, pinning him with a serious look. 
“I’m sorry if I’m overstepping right now, but I know what it’s like to be depressed,” he looked up from his feet, resting his hands on his knees as he spoke, “I lost my mother when I was 15. I’m not saying by any means that I know what you’re going through, but when I lost my mom I felt like I had no one to talk to. I don’t know you, at least, not really. But if you give me the chance, I would like to try? We are neighbors after all.” His momentary burst of confidence falters as he plays with his fingers and looks down at the carpet. 
Your gaze softened at the absolute sincerity in his tone. Was this real life? You almost wanted to pinch yourself to make sure you didn’t pass out drunk on the deck and dreamt up some hot stranger to ease your muddled mind. You let out a breathy laugh, absent of any humor. You thought for a second, did you really want to unload this baggage on Seungcheol? No, really. It’s better to keep things vague, that way there is no one to hurt when you’re gone. “Seungcheol,” you started, causing his head to snap up to meet your gaze, teeth worrying his bottom lip, “You seem like a really nice guy,” Seungcheol winced, he could sense a ‘but’ coming, preparing himself for rejection. It’s not like he isn’t used to it, being the shy guy in a small town he never really had the chance to talk to many people. “But I can’t promise you that I’ll even be around in a week. I don’t want to get attached to someone, it’ll just be harder in the end.”
That was not what Seungcheol was expecting. His heart dropped down to the floor. He felt his stomach flip. Did you really just imply what he thinks you did? It didn’t matter if he barely knew you, you needed to know that someone cared for you. But he knew he needed to tread lightly here. He slowly got up from his spot on the loveseat and made his way over to you, crouching down so he could meet your downcast eyes. His hands were clasped together, but the moment you lifted your gaze to meet his, he unclasped both hands and held them out to you, wanting you to make the first move, conscious you might still feel uncomfortable with him. Hesitantly, you reached out one hand, which he grasped in both of his much larger ones. His warmth instantly soothing your cold bones.
“YN,” he whispered, barely audible, but you heard him, “I don’t know what your life is like back, wherever you’re from, but you’re here right now. I’m here for you, and I would really, really, like to get to know you better. If you can’t promise me a week, can you at least promise me tomorrow?” He didn’t want to scare you away, dreading what might happen if he does. He saw unshed tears glistening in your doe eyes before continuing, “I’ll come over, every day, and we can spend Christmas together. You don’t have to be alone this year YN.”
The thought of not having to spend Christmas alone was enticing. The last time you spent Christmas with someone and was coherent enough to remember it, was four years ago, when you and Shua came up here. The last time you were up here before that dreaded Christmas Eve three years ago. You wanted, really wanted, to take Seungcheol up on his offer. But you felt like you owed it to him to explain why you were like this. Why you weren’t able to get close to anyone, why you felt like this was a bad idea. You thought, if you tell him what happened, about your demons in your closet, maybe it would scare him away and save him any future pain. With that in mind, you spoke, ““That fucking lake. It’s caused me so much pain, and now it’s like a sick metaphor of my life,” it was barely a whisper that left your lips. Seungcheol could tell whatever you were about to say was heavy. He waited patiently, holding your sad gaze, silently letting you know he was listening. “They died in that lake. It was raining, my dad didn’t see the deer in front of them on the bridge leading into town. They had come up here for a weekend getaway without me and my brother, which they rarely ever fucking did. We found out two days later when they didn’t show up for work.” 
Seungcheol instantly remembered exactly what you were talking about. How could he not have put two and two together? About six years ago, he was commuting back and forth from the cabin to Daegu for work. He was on his way up here for the weekend when the roads were blocked off at the bridge, he saw the overturned car in the embankment of the lake. Everyone in this small town talked about the couple who drowned in the lake for years after the accident. He even heard about how their child had tried to drown themselves in the same lake a few years ago…. Oh. Oh God.
“YN.”
“It’s ok Seungcheol. I don’t want sympathies, I don’t want anymore ‘I’m sorry”’s. You offered to listen, so I’m getting it all out.” You looked down, becoming hyper focused on your hand clasped in Seungcheol’s. “After they died, me and Joshua would come up here for Christmas, attempting to feel more like a family. It never did, we would just fight when we were up here, nonsensical arguments that drove a wedge between us. We kept trying though, until three years ago.” You heaved a heavy sigh. He remembers that, too. He would always see you and that guy, Joshua, arguing on the deck, or you crying out by the tree swing near the lake. You stopped, unsure if you should continue. You chanced a glance at Seungcheol, his dark eyes watching you with - it wasn’t pity - compassion? His gaze made you want to continue, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. “I tried to drown myself three Christmas’ ago. In that damn lake.” You voice was low, rough as you spoke through your teeth.
Seungcheol sucked in a breath, and he hoped beyond hope you didn’t notice. He wasn’t even sure why he was shocked, he connected the dots a few moments ago. He knew it was you. “YN. I - I,” he faltered. 
Not quite meeting his gaze yet, you muttered, “It’s fine Seungcheol. Now that lake is like this stupid fucking metaphor for my life. I ebb and flow, just like the waters in that lake throughout the year. I have my ups and downs. Then, every Christmas, the lake freezes over. It’s always hard for me to get through this time of year, especially without Shua.” You felt a single tear roll down your already puffy cheeks. You sniffled slightly, rubbing your nose on the sleeve of your shirt with your free arm.
Seungcheol stood up from his crouching position slowly, his grip on your hand still tight, your head shot up to look at him, suddenly afraid he was about to bolt. But he hesitantly took a seat next to you, holding your hand in his lap.  He could tell you were trying to scare him away, make him realise you were too broken to be fixed. He was determined to keep you talking, get all your baggage laid out on the table so he could assure you none of it mattered to him. “YN, what happened with Joshua?” He whispered, close to your face. He didn’t want to risk you building that wall back up, even if he didn’t exactly want to hear the answer.
“He found me in the lake. Freezing, nearly dead.” Tears were rolling down your face now as you sniffled, and you felt Seungcheol’s soft fingers rubbing soothing circles on your wrist. You looked up, gaze focused on the wall behind Seungcheol. “Brought me to the hospital, checked me in, and left. I didn’t hear from him for a few months after that. When I finally did he texted me and told me that he didn’t think he could handle my ‘destructive behavior’, and offered to pay for my treatment”, you murmured that last part, voice faltering as you sucked in a shaky breath. “I haven’t seen him since that night.” At this, you finally looked into Seungcheol’s eyes, your own crinkled in pain, tears freely falling down your face, and Seungcheol’s heart broke. No. It shattered into a million tiny pieces. He barely knew you, but he wanted to do everything in his power to make you feel loved, wanted to show you that someone cared about you. You weren’t going to scare him away with your demons, no matter how hard you tried. He had his own, he knew what it was like to want to chase everyone away with them. 
Seungcheol scooted a little closer to you on the couch, releasing your hand in the process, and gathered your shrunken form into his arms and hugged you close. A beat passed before you hugged back, uncertain if you should. But his warmth had you melting into him, your chest heaving with pitiful sobs. The hug was a little awkward, with you both sitting on the couch, so Seungcheol brought his leg up and slotted it behind you, between you and the couch back, moving even closer to you. Seungcheol’s ambiguous nature long gone as he rubbed a large hand up and down your back, pushing his face into your hair, shushing you. You sat there, in his embrace, for what felt like hours, but was realistically probably only 5 minutes. When your sobs started to slow down, Seungcheol pulled back slightly, arms still wrapped firmly around you, looking you in the eye, “YN-” he started, but you cut him off before he could finish. 
With a small sniffle and watery eyes, you whispered, “I’m broken Seungcheol. You shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t want to be here. I only cause others pain.”
He seemed confused by your statement at first. His dark eyes searching your own for a second before he whispered, “I see you here, year after year. I can tell YN, I can see it. You’re broken by what happened, but you are not a broken person. You’re so beautiful honey, and from what I’ve seen of you tonight, you’re kind and worthy. Worthy of love, worthy of life, and worthy of happiness.” Your eyes started to well up with tears again and Seungcheol gave you a sad smile, thumb reaching up and caressing your cheek to wipe them away. “I didn’t come up to your deck tonight because I thought you locked yourself out of your house.” He admitted with a slightly sheepish look. “I came over because I’ve seen the torment in your eyes, and I’ve been there before. I don’t want you to feel like you have to go through this alone. I wanted to be here for you, regardless of how well I know you. Maybe I can get to know you in the process, b-but I want you to be ok, YN.” He softly whispered the last part softly, dark eyes starting to well with his own unshed tears.
“You barely know me Seungcheol. Your words are sweet, but I’m not worthy. I’ve been drowning myself in liquor, killing myself with these cigarettes, and pushing everyone in my life away for the last seven years. I’m a shit human.” You look down, hand reaching up to gently grasp Seungcheol’s wrist, slowly pulling his hand from your face. The hurt in his eyes was hard to miss. 
“I barely know you, but yet I want to know more. Doesn’t that say something? You think you’re not worthy, but I’m right here, telling you I think you’re interesting, lovable, and funny, if you give me the chance. I want to get to know you.” He pulled his hand, ever so gently, away from your grasp, placing it on your shoulder to pull you against his chest again. “You matter YN.”
You let out another quiet sob into Seungcheol’s flannel shirt, inhaling his soft citrus-y scent that has been a calming presence to you all night. “Promise me tomorrow, YN. Promise me you’ll stay tomorrow, talk to me, get to know me a little more,” he mumbled into your hair, “all I’m asking for is tomorrow.”
You thought to yourself for a moment. You could do that. You could promise one more day. Even if you had to suffer through it, at least Seungcheol would be there with you. Inhaling a shaky breath, you gasped out an, “ok.”
Seungcheol smiled to himself, a sad, small smile. He was happy you were going to give yourself a chance, even if it was under the guise of giving him a chance. He was determined to make you see life was worth living.
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You woke up with a splitting headache. Was it from the copious amounts of alcohol you consumed yesterday, or from all the crying you did? You didn’t know. All you knew was the sunlight streaming in from your bedroom window was going to be the death of you if you had to endure it any longer. You let out a weak groan as you rolled over, pulling the soft duvet cover over your head. You didn’t want to get out of bed, but you knew you needed to get some water, or your headache was only going to get worse.
Throwing the covers off yourself, you slowly sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You grabbed your phone from your bedside table, noting that it was December 22. Meaning you were right in your assumption last night. Three more days until Christmas. As you looked at your phone, you noticed your arms were covered by a thick, wool like fabric. This wasn’t your pajama shirt, what were you wearing? You stood up and walked over to the floor length mirror on the back of your bedroom door, still littered with stickers from that time you and your friend Jeongyeon visited the cabin when you were 14. 
As you gazed at yourself in the mirror, the events of last night came rushing back to you. Seungcheol. You were wearing his coat that he so kindly brought over to you last night while you were out on your deck. Seungcheol sat with you while you cried into his shirt for an hour after you had spilled your life story to him, letting all your monsters out to play. You could see the remnants of your sobbing on your face, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. After you calmed down a bit, Seungcheol wrapped you in his jacket and carried you to your bed, shaky and cold. He laid you down gently, pulling the covers over your sleepy form and whispered, “Tomorrow. I’ll be back tomorrow, and we’re going to get to know each other better. You promised.” before he left. Too tired to speak, you rolled over and fell asleep. 
Your face heated with embarrassment. A man you hardly knew took care of you last night, carried you to your bed. This wasn’t like you. He hugged you last night! You haven’t had any human contact in nearly three years. The last person you hugged was your therapist at the rehab facility, and even that was awkward and a little forced. You hadn’t even hugged your own biological brother in over four years. At the thought of Seungcheol hugging you, you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, remembering how you melted into his warm chest last night. You didn’t realize just how touch starved you’d become in the last few years, but the evidence was right there. Shaking off your humiliation, you shrugged off Seungcheol’s jacket and rummaged through your suitcase for some clothes. Surely, you’d feel better after a shower and some breakfast. Right?
After rinsing the previous night from your skin, you dressed in some sweats and a t-shirt, not really bothering to do your hair. You didn’t plan on leaving the cabin today, at most you would sit out on the deck again. Heading back into your room, you hear a soft knock coming from your living room. At first you thought you were hearing things, until another knock, slightly louder, sounded through the cabin. 
As you made your way down the hallway and into the living room, you saw a smiling Seungcheol through the sliding glass door standing on your back deck. His arms were full, with… Bags? You rushed forward past the couches and unlocked and slid the door open.
“Good morning - er, I guess afternoon now?” Seungcheol stuttered a little awkwardly, albeit friendly. He stumbled through your back door and made his way over to the kitchen island. You watched wordlessly as he set down a couple of bags and a blanket on the marble countertop. You tilted your head at him as he turned around to face you. “I, um, I thought we could spend the day together if - if that’s ok with you?” he lilted his words at the end. 
You remember the promise you made to Seungcheol last night as you stared at him, mouth agape. One more day. You promised him today. You were slightly surprised that Seungcheol made good on it, half expecting him to bolt last night and never speak to you again after everything you unloaded on him, yet here he was, bright eyed and bushy tailed at…. Two in the afternoon, damn you really did knock out.
“What’s in the bags?” You questioned as you moved towards the kitchen, blinking dumbly at Seungcheol and pointing at the reusable grocery bags he brought with him. 
“Well… I noticed last night that you didn’t have much food in your fridge, mostly just liquor and soda,” your cheeks heated as he called you on your bad habits, “so I brought over some groceries. I thought we could make lunch and since it’s a little too cold outside, we could set up a picnic in your living room.” he offered, gesturing to the blanket sitting on your countertop. “If that’s ok with you, of course.” He sounded a little abashed, having not gotten your number last night, he wasn’t able to see if you were ok with all of this beforehand. He was taking a leap of faith here, hoping that you would take him up on his offer. It was the only thing he could think of that didn’t involve going outside in the snow.
You smiled shyly at him, “That actually sounds really nice, Seungcheol, thank you.” Not having a drop of alcohol in your system was making your normal, shy self emerge from the mask of indifference you usually wear, shrouded behind a layer of soju. 
Seungcheol offered you a bright smile, showing off his perfect teeth. His smile was warm, inviting, much like his scent. You were slowly realizing that you quite enjoyed his company. Maybe a little more than you should have.
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You and Seungcheol had spent the afternoon cooking and chatting in your kitchen, making a kimchi stew from a recipe Seungcheol had in one of his grandmother’s old cookbooks. You discovered that he was a natural in the kitchen, moving through the recipes with ease. He told you stories about how he used to come out here to visit his grandma and she would always cook with him in the very cabin he lived in now. He told you about how he inherited it from her 8 years ago when she passed away, and how he quit his office job in Daegu to move out here and become a freelance writer for an online journal. You admired his bravery, being able to leave his life behind and take a risk moving out here. Part of you wished you were able to take that jump, you truly loved this cabin, and most of the memories that came with it. But alas, you were tied to your stupid corporate job in your stupid coastal city. It’s part of the reason you were always so jealous of Joshua, being able to make that move without you.
Now, you and Seungcheol were sitting on his soft blanket, in front of your fireplace, eating the stew the two of you made together. “So where are you from, YN?” Seungcheol asked as he finished off his bowl, setting it down on the hardwood floor. 
“Busan,” you stated simply. “I still live there. I usually only make the trip out here for Christmas now. Though I used to come up during the summers, too, but haven’t in a while.”
“And what do you do, in Busan?” he asked, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his elbows, full focus on you.
“I work at an animal shelter. Nothing fancy. I actually work in the office, but I get to hang out with the cats and dogs, too. I tend to prefer the company of animals, rather than humans,” you offered somewhat abashedly. You were telling the truth. You had always wanted to become a veterinarian, ever since you could talk, really. But you just didn’t have the time, or the money to go to school, so you found the next best option.
“I definitely get that,” Seungcheol agreed, “I have a cat at home. It gets lonely up here sometimes, and he helps keep me sane.” He smiled thinking about the furball he adopted a couple years ago, probably resting peacefully in his favorite sunbathing spot in his living room.
Your eyes lit up at the mention of a cat and Seungcheol filed that away for later. “Really? What’s his name?”
Seungcheol was more than happy to indulge in your sudden curiosity, happy he found something you’re actually interested in. “Bear. He’s a Maine coon. I found him at the local shelter in town a couple years back. He’s the sweetest thing.”
Your conversation continued throughout the afternoon much the same. You told Seungcheol about your dreams to become a vet that would probably never come to fruition, and in turn he told you about his previous job in Daegu as a marketing analyst. You shared with each other your big (and small) dreams and aspirations, discussed TV shows you both liked, and talked about different recipes you enjoy. You discovered that Seungcheol used to be a horrible cook, but ever since moving to the cabin and having to cook for himself, he turned out to be a decent home chef.
You were actually enjoying spending time with Seungcheol, something you really didn’t expect to happen when you were on the drive up here a few days ago. You haven’t really had a friend to talk to for a long time, your only close friend Jeongyeon having moved to the United States six years ago, you never really made the effort to make any new ones. Seungcheol was nice, you thought to yourself as he talked more about his cat, you wouldn’t mind being friends with him. 
By dinner time you were both starting to get hungry again, so you suggested ordering take out while you both cleaned up the mess in the kitchen from earlier.  You called the chicken place you knew of in town, while Seungcheol started loading the dishwasher. “Hey YN?” you heard from the kitchen.
“Yes?” You half shouted back, walking down the hallway towards Seungcheol. 
“Where are your dish- oh nevermind, found them!” He shouted back as you walked into the kitchen. He stood up straight after shutting the dishwasher, sighing and wiping his hands down the front of his jeans. “Dishes are done, food is ordered. What do you say we watch some Christmas movies?” You smiled at the look on Seungcheol’s face, he seemed so excited to be doing something as domestic as cleaning and relaxing, it made your heart soften just a bit.
For the rest of the night, you and Seungcheol sat in front of the TV, watching sappy Lifetime movies, eating chicken and drinking beer. It was probably the most fun you’ve had in quite a few years, and you were really thankful for his company. At the end of the night, you and Seungcheol exchanged phone numbers with a promise that you would give Seungcheol one more day, at least, to get to know you better. You agreed, and Seungcheol left with one final bright smile and wave of his hand. 
You sighed, rubbing your hand down the front of your face. Having Seungcheol here was a great distraction, but now that he’s gone and you can hear the faint sound of Christmas music playing on the credits of some crappy movie, reality was starting to sink in. After these two weeks were over, you’d return to Busan, Seungcheol-less, and have to resume your normal life again. A life you weren’t satisfied with. A life you knew you didn’t want to continue living. Being here made you feel like that life didn’t exist anymore, like you were almost, happy? But you knew that it would all be over soon and everything would hurt again. You didn’t want to let yourself get wrapped up in Seungcheol because only bad things could come of it, but he was making it really, really hard. You could see yourself falling for Seungcheol, allowing him to make you happy, being with him, domestic and blissful, in another life. But not this one, not the current life the universe had dealt you. You had way too much baggage, you would never be the happy go-lucky girl you were in your teens again. You would always live with this depression, with these demons. Despite years of therapy and a stint in rehab, there was nothing that was going to fix you.
As you changed into your pajamas, you stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Your eyes were sunken in, your skin was pale, and your hair had seen better days. You knew you hadn’t been taking great care of yourself, but you didn’t think it had gotten this bad. What did Seungcheol see in you anyways? Your life was a wreck and you looked like it, too. You sighed to yourself, running a brush through your hair. You promised Seungcheol one more day, so you were going to make it through tomorrow, at least.
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December 23rd. Two more days until Christmas. 
You woke up feeling a little lighter this morning after having spent yesterday with Seungcheol, but you also had a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. You’ve never really been one to believe in superstitions, but for some reason, you had a strong feeling something bad was going to happen soon. You tried to shake off the feeling. You had woken up early this morning, just before sunrise and decided to take a steaming hot shower.
After your shower, you got dressed in comfy clothes and decided to sit out on the deck and smoke for a bit. It was still early in the morning, the sun still on the horizon. It really was beautiful out here. You had the perfect view of the lake from your deck. It faced towards the east, giving you a gorgeous view of the sunrise just above the frozen lake. The colors of the sky were so pretty this time of day, oranges mixing with pretty pinks, you nearly felt like you were on set for a romance drama. 
There was a low fog rolling onto the embankment from the lake. It almost looked like dry ice, white billows of smoke swirling in the slight morning breeze. Admiring the landscape, you took a cigarette out of your pack, and slid your lighter out of your pocket. The sun was just barely starting to pass over the mountains in the east. You shivered a little as you lit up your cigarette, taking a deep inhale of smoke. You instantly felt at ease, the weird feeling from earlier dissipating with the sharp exhale of smoke. 
Seungcheol hadn’t gone to sleep yet, and was typing on his laptop, Bear in his lap, on his sofa. He spent a majority of the day over at your cabin yesterday and spent all night trying to get caught up with work. As a freelance writer, he made his own hours, but he wanted to make sure he was going to meet his next deadline, coming up in a few weeks. 
He gently closed his laptop and stretched his arms up into the air, cracking a few joints in the process. The noise startled Bear and he shot up out of Seungcheol’s lap, across the kitchen floor. “Sorry, buddy,” Seungcheol mumbled, sleep thick in his voice. He watched as Bear slid across the linoleum and jumped up onto the window sill above the sink. Seungcheol looked out of the window curiously, eyes catching on a figure. He stood up from his spot on the sofa slowly, making his way towards the window, mindful of Bear this time.
From his kitchen window, Seungcheol had a perfect view of you standing on your deck smoking a cigarette. He watched as you took a deep inhale every couple of minutes and exhaled white swirls of smoke through your nose. The sun was just beginning to rise and the light was catching beautifully on the planes of your face. Seungcheol took a moment to admire you, since he hasn’t really had the chance before. You were always intently watching him, waiting for his next move, almost like you were afraid he would leave, never quite giving in to his friendship.
The light shone over your features beautifully, highlighting your sharp cheekbones and sunken in eyes. Seungcheol noticed you looked a little thin, he wasn’t sure if that had to do with heredity or your mental state, but he tried not to dwell on it. Long eyelashes flutter over your cheeks everytime you close your eyes, basking in the sunlight. Your fingers, long and slender, held the cigarette so delicately. You seemed so fragile, so ethereal, he wonders why the world had to be so cruel to you. What did you do to deserve the foul things that have happened to you? Nothing, you didn’t do anything, he reminded himself. You were just delt a bad hand at life. 
He watched as your long hair fluttered around your face in the breeze. It looks like you just washed it, he thought, you must be cold in the crisp morning air. With one last exhale of smoke, you put your cigarette out on the railing of your deck. Seungcheol smirked to himself when he saw the small pout form on your lips. How could someone be so beautiful, yet so broken? Seungcheol wasn’t sure why he felt this strong urge to protect you, to prevent any further harm from coming to you, but he knew that he would do everything in his power to make sure you felt cared for. He was drawn to you, in a way he has never been drawn to another person. It both scared and excited him and sent butterflies fluttering through his stomach and ribcage. He took one last glance at you through the window and decided it would be best if he got some rest before trekking back over to your cabin later. 
As Seungcheol fell asleep, all thoughts were on his pretty neighbor and the haunting look in your eyes as you stared out at the lake.
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The rest of your morning went by relatively smoothly, having made breakfast after coming inside from your morning smoke. You cooked yourself some eggs and toast and then decided to check some emails on your laptop you brought with you. You saw a couple of emails from your boss, asking about adoption paperwork that he couldn’t find on your desk. You emailed him back quickly with the forms you had stored in your files, before powering off your computer, done with work for now. You moved the laptop from the top of your thighs to the nightstand next to your bed and leaned back against the headboard. You folded your arms behind your head and glanced around the room, taking in your childhood surroundings. 
The walls of your bedroom were still a pastel pink color with sponged on white clouds reaching up to the ceiling. You had a vivid memory of helping your mom paint the clouds when you were 8 years old. She would laugh at you everytime you would pout because the cloud didn’t come out exactly how you wanted it to. You smiled at the memory of your sweet mother’s laugh.
Across from your full size bed, was a white dresser with claw feet that still contained some old summer clothes from when you would visit during your breaks from high school, probably a few sizes too small now. Along the side of the dresser and the white full length mirror on the back of your door, were stickers from your favorite boy groups when you were a teenager. You and Jeongyeon had collected them throughout the school year and would stick them on when you arrived for the summer. You smiled at the memories this room brought back. This was the reason you kept returning here every year, you tell yourself. To remember the times when you were happy and loved life. 
You let out a deep sigh and sunk back onto your mattress further, eyes feeling droopy. When your head hit the soft pillow, you stared up at the ceiling, still white because your mom said painting the ceiling pink would have made the room feel claustrophobic. There were still little pieces of sticky tape stuck to it from when you had plastered glow in the dark stars and planets all over the ceiling, long since gone now, though the remnants remained. You were always fascinated by space. You remember when you begged your mom to get those planets for the cabin after putting them up in your childhood bedroom back home in Busan.
You never updated anything in the house, really, bought new furniture, or moved anything around. It would feel wrong, you thought. It wouldn’t feel like home anymore if you made changes. 
You hadn’t even entered the master bedroom, where your parents slept, since they passed. You know that Joshua has, having gone through some of their belongings in the years since their death, but you never could bring yourself to do it. Shua had also gone through his childhood things in his room, just across the hall from you, taking what he cared for back to Seoul with him. You wondered what was left in there, too tired to actually get up and check. As you reminisced on your cabin, your childhood, sleep began to take over, and eventually you fell asleep to the slow hum of the heater for a much needed nap.
-
You sat up straight in bed, clutching your shirt, breathing heavy. What was that noise? Ding ding. You let out a breath of relief. It’s just the doorbell. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, briefly glancing at the clock on your side table. 4:03 pm. Damn. How long did you sleep?
As you got up to answer the door you caught your reflection in the mirror, straightening your bed head out a little. As you made your way to the front of the house, you heard soft knocking on the door. “Coming, coming!” you yelled out to whoever was on the other side. When you arrived at the front door, you looked out the glass pane next the door, finding Seungcheol standing there on your front porch. He was holding a - duffle bag? You squint your eyes in confusion, but open the door anyways. 
“Hi, YN!” Seungcheol starts, before taking in your appearance. You were wearing what looked to be pajama shorts and an oversized white t-shirt. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” He looked a little sheepish, despite the late hour, running his hair through his blonde locks.
“A-ah, yeah, but it’s ok! I really shouldn’t have slept this long anyway,” you trailed off, opening the door a little wider and motioning for Seungcheol to come in. “What’s that?” You asked, pointing at the black bag clutched in his hand.
“Oh, well…” he starts, coming all the way through the entryway and toeing his shoes off next to yours, he assumed. “Since the forecast says it’s supposed to snow, I brought some board games and some movies,” he seemed a little unsure, wary that you were going to tell him you didn’t want to hang out, or something. You smiled at him to ease his worries.
“I love board games,” you began, walking off towards your kitchen, Seungcheol trailing behind you. “I haven’t really played any in years though,” you falter, “I’m not sure I’ll be any good.”
Seungcheol gave you the gentlest smile you think you’ve ever seen from a man, making you melt a little more. What was this guy doing to you?
“Don’t worry, I’m not the competitive type anyways.” He gave you a little wink, making you think that was an absolute lie. Seungcheol’s eyes shot up to yours, a bright smile spreading across his handsome face. The tinkling sound of your laugh made his insides heat up. He absolutely adored the sound. 
The two of you ended up ordering take out again, Seungcheol insisting on paying this time, and sat on your couches with games and snacks spread out on the coffee table. You guys had already played a couple rounds of Scrabble, and one round of Scattergories and now you were leaning back enjoying the pizza Seungcheol had ordered. Just like Seungcheol had predicted, it started snowing around 6 o’clock and has been for the last hour or so. 
“You’re telling me you lived your whole life never having a pet?!” You laughed, hand covering your mouth still full of pizza.
“Nope. My parents never let me have a pet growing up and when I was old enough to move out I was just too busy to take care of one. A few years ago when I was feeling lonely, I decided to give it a go.”
You couldn’t imagine a life without pets. Growing up your family always had dogs or cats around, one time even adopting a pet hamster. You haven’t had pets in a few years, but you’re around them all the time due to work. 
“I love Bear, though. I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it now.” He smiled fondly, talking about his beloved cat. “What about you, any pets back home?”
“Ah, no. I don’t have the time anymore. But it’s ok because I spend most of my time with them at work.” As much as you hated the people you worked with, you absolutely adored the animals. You didn’t think you could ever work in a profession that didn’t allow you to work with animals, it just wouldn’t make sense to you. 
Seungcheol smiled at you, damn that smile was making you seriously weak. “I’d love to introduce you to Bear while you’re here, if you’d like.” 
You grinned brightly at the man seated across from you, “I would love that.”
“Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow? It’ll be Christmas Eve, I can cook something for us, and you can hangout with Bear. I’m sure he’d love the company, I’m usually pretty boring.” He laughed. 
“I -” you hesitated. Why were you hesitating? You really liked Seungcheol. You liked him so much that you even forgot about your promise to him about ‘one more day’. You were enjoying the time you spent with him so much that thoughts about your parents, Joshua, and your demons were at the back of your mind when you were with him. You mean, you’ve literally only smoked two cigarettes today, that has to be some sort of record for you. So why were you hesitating? 
You knew why, you didn’t want Seungcheol to get too attached. It’s been at the forefront of your mind since you met the guy. Who were you kidding, you didn’t want to get too attached. You’d be leaving soon and it would only hurt you more in the long run. Seungcheol was staring at you, a hopeful look in his eyes. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea, Seungcheol.”
The crestfallen look on Seungcheol’s face made you want to immediately take back your words, but he beat you to it. “Can I ask you why you think that?” He was much bolder than when you met a couple of days ago, you noted. 
You wrung your hands together in your lap, having finished your slice of pizza a few minutes ago, the greasy remnants only slightly bothersome. “I just don’t want to make this harder than it’s already going to be,” you trailed off quietly, eyes fixated on a loose thread on the rug beneath the coffee table, “I have to go back home in a week, and like I told you a couple of days ago, I’m not sure if I even want to live that life anymore.” You whispered the last part, biting on the inside of your cheek. 
Seungcheol’s eyes softened. He realized it wasn’t about him, but about you and how you didn’t want to hurt him, once again. He knew you were too kind for your own good, but he really needed you to realize that. “YN. It’s just dinner. And who says we can’t still be friends when you do go back home?” he added extra emphasis to the word do, making sure to not use an ‘if’ in that sentence. He’s going to make sure you make it back home in one piece if it’s the last thing he does. 
You knew what Seungcheol was trying to do, and you really did appreciate it. You also really enjoyed his company, so you thought, why not, fuck it. “Ok.” you whispered out softly, finally meeting Seungcheol’s eyes. 
“Ok? Does that mean you’ll have dinner with me tomorrow night?”
“Yes. I’ll have dinner with you. On one condition,” you acquiesced, a soft smirk on your face.
Seungcheol’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his blonde fringe. “Anything,” he breathed out, a little too quickly for his liking.
“I get to cuddle with your cat all night. I really miss the animals.” A melancholic look took over your features as you remember the shelter animals.
Seungcheol tried, and failed, to hide a huge grin. “Deal.”
-
Last night, after you agreed to have dinner with Seungcheol, you played a few more board games, kicking his ass in Monopoly a couple of times, before you said your goodbyes. Seungcheol left the board games at your house, reasoning that he would definitely be back over to avenge himself in Monopoly. You giggled at him as you waved goodbye with the promise of dinner the next night.
It was now 1 o’clock in the afternoon on Christmas Eve, and you were starting to panic. Christmas Eve was a hard day for you to get through normally, considering the memories you have of this day. Not only that, but you still couldn’t shake that odd feeling that you had when you woke up yesterday. However, today is even more panic-inducing because you are about to have dinner with your cute neighbor, who you may or may not have a slight (read: huge) crush on. Something you realized late last night as you lay awake in your bed.
You spent a majority of your morning sulking around your cabin, taking more than a few smoke breaks on the deck, and cleaning the kitchen and living room up in your anxiety driven state. Even though you were eating at your neighbor’s house tonight, your own was looking spotless with all your stress cleaning. Now, with nothing left to tidy up, you decide to start getting ready for dinner. 
After taking a long, hot shower, you dried and styled your hair, put just enough makeup on to cover your dark bags and sallow skin, and ventured to your room to rummage through your suitcase in order to find something appropriate to wear. You didn’t bring much with you on this trip besides sweatpants and pajamas. It’s not like you would’ve gone anywhere other than the corner store for more cigarettes had you not met Seungcheol. 
You eventually decide on a dark pair of jeans that you luckily decided to throw in your suitcase last minute, and an old band t-shirt. You honestly didn’t have much else, and you were hoping Seungcheol understood (he did) you didn’t really plan on seeing anyone these couple of weeks. 
A little after four in the afternoon, your anxiety started to build up even more. You were anxiously awaiting Seungcheol’s text to head over to his place, and decided that it was a great time for a smoke. You grabbed Seungcheol’s coat that was draped over your vanity chair, your pack of cigarettes, and your lighter, and headed out towards the deck. You had been so wrapped up in making yourself look presentable, that you had mostly forgotten what day it was, and the dread you usually felt about it. It was nice in a way, but now, sitting out here on your deck, staring out at that damned lake, you couldn’t help but remember why it was you started smoking these stupid cigarettes in the first place. 
“YN?” you heard someone call, distant, yet still close? You were confused, you couldn’t open your eyes. Why couldn’t you open your eyes? “YN, can you hear me?” Joshua? Joshua! You thought to yourself. Why couldn’t he hear you!?
For a moment, your eyes fluttered open. You saw Joshua, hovering above you. But there was someone else next to him. They were wearing a uniform. A cop? No. They were wearing latex gloves and holding what looked like an IV bag.  “YN!” You heard Joshua yell again, he sounded scared. You desperately wanted to answer him, but your voice wouldn’t come through. You blinked a few times, before everything faded to black again. That was the last memory you had of your brother. 
Your cell phone dinged in your pocket, startling you back into the present. You looked at the cigarette in your hand, nearly burned to the butt and you haven’t taken a single drag. Quickly, you brought it up to your lips and inhaled before pulling your phone out of Seungcheol’s coat. 
From Seungcheol [4:33 pm]: dinner will be ready in 20, want to head over?
You glanced over to Seungcheol’s house, briefly looking through the only window that didn’t have the curtains drawn. You didn’t see any movement. Had he seen you out here smoking again? You looked back at your phone, taking another drag from the cigarette, before typing out your reply. 
From You [4:35 pm]: ya, be right over
You pocketed your phone and put your cigarette out, tossing the butt into the trash can on your way back inside. You locked the sliding glass door before heading to your room to spray some perfume. You didn’t want to go over to Seungcheol’s smelling like smoke, knowing he probably didn’t like the smell regardless of what he said. Before you left, you grabbed your keys, double checked the doors were locked, and walked the short distance between the two houses. 
Before you knocked, you took in the state of Seungcheol’s home. It was quaint, smaller than your parent’s cabin, but only slightly, painted white with forest green window sills and roof tiles. You noticed there were planter boxes under his front windows, but no plants to be found in the frigid winter. Hung on his front door was a cute Christmas wreath, plain with pretty burgundy poinsettias on it. You smiled to yourself, happy to see some form of Christmas decorations, not having put any of your own out. You’ve really forgotten how much you used to love Christmas. You loved the decorations, the food, the movies, but you’ve really forgotten what it was like to feel that holiday cheer. Having Seungcheol in your life, even for these few days, has really helped you see what you’ve been missing out on.
Before you could even lift your hand to knock on the dark green door, it was opening to reveal a giddy looking Seungcheol. You took a moment to drink him in, in all his glory. He was wearing some dark jeans, much like you, and a tucked in plain black t-shirt, his muscular biceps on display. You idly wondered if he didn’t dress up on purpose to spare you the embarrassment of not having nice clothes, but the thought disappeared as quickly as it came. His blonde hair, usually a disheveled mess, was combed out and surprisingly shiny, despite what looked like excessive bleaching to reach his desired tone. The moment he saw that you were wearing his coat, a huge bright grin took over his face, causing his doe-like eyes to scrunch in happiness. The look on his face made butterflies erupt in your stomach, as you mirrored his grin.
“Hi,” he said shyly, still smiling.
“Hi yourself,” you breathed, “thank you for having me over.”
He waved away your thanks, moving aside and gesturing for you to come in. “Don’t mention it, really. The pleasure is all mine.” You don’t know the weight those words hold, but he means it, you can tell. 
As you walked through the entryway of his home, you pulled off your shoes, setting them on the neatly organized shoe rack next to his front door. Moving through to his living room, you noticed how well organized his entire house was. There was a pristine looking cover over his sofa which also housed a couple of blankets and throw pillows. On his coffee table were a few books and what looked like photo albums. As you took in your surroundings, Seungcheol watched you curiously, one eyebrow cocked. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but you weren’t expecting him to be so… clean? Organized? Your guy friends growing up were never this neat.
“I like to keep things organized, sometimes it can be a bad habit of mine,” he trailed off, reading your mind, looking around his neat space, “dinner is almost done. Do you want something to drink?”
“Yes, please.” You sighed in relief. You were pacified at the thought of having a glass of something to help lessen your nerves. You only knew Seungcheol for the past three days, but for some reason, this almost felt like a first date, despite him never labeling it as such. God, when was the last time you went on a date? It had to have been at least 5 years ago. The thought alone made your anxiety flare up tenfold. It’s not a date. It’s just neighbors having dinner on Christmas Eve because they’re both lonely. Right? 
“I have both white and red wine, soda and different types of tea…” you were still standing awkwardly, hands clasped in front of you looking almost like you were afraid to move further into his house. Seungcheol walked up to you, gently taking your hand in his, causing your eyes to snap up, meeting his own. “Hey, it’s ok,” he smiled gently at you, “come on, I’ll get us some drinks.” 
He led you into his kitchen which had his dining room attached, a small four person wooden table sitting near a bay window. It was cozy, you thought, somewhere you would like to retire to. Now, that wasn’t a thought you’d had in a long time. You never pondered about growing old anymore, surprise you even made it this far into your life. The thought made you pause for a moment, licking your lips and shaking your head slightly.
Seungcheol let go of your hand to reach into a cabinet by his sink. “Wine ok?” he asked, sensing the tension in your body. 
“Y-yes. Red, please.” You weren’t sure why you were being so shy and awkward, you’ve spent the last couple of days getting to know Seungcheol, pretty well you might add. You’ve talked about all kinds of topics, including incredibly deep ones. You think it’s partly to do with what day it is, as Christmas Eve always puts you a little more on edge, and a little more flighty. Seungcheol quietly pours two glasses of red wine, passing one to you politely. You murmur a thank you before taking a sip.
Seungcheol watches you as you sip your wine, looking around his kitchen curiously. He could sense your anxiety, it was rolling off of you in waves. He didn’t want this to be awkward, he wanted to make sure you had a good night, and wanted to take your mind off of things for a while. He figured Christmas Eve was difficult for you, and if your nerves were anything to go by, he was correct in his assumption. “Want to meet Bear?” he asked, hopeful it would help shift your mood a little. 
Your eyes lit up at the mention of the cat, and were quickly nodding your head. Seungcheol walked away down the hallway, returning moments later with a fluffy dark brown cat in his arms. “He’s a little shy, but if you give him some time, he’ll warm up to you,” Seungcheol smiled at you, his cheeks puffing up cutely, leading you over to his couch, sitting down with Bear in his lap. Slowly, you sat down too, not wanting to scare the creature, and sat your wine glass on a wooden coaster on the coffee table. 
Immediately upon sitting, Bear hopped off Seungcheol’s lap and right into yours. You let out a small, shocked gasp as the cat started kneading into your thighs, making himself comfortable. Seungcheol’s eyes widened as they met you. “H-he never does that. It usually takes him a while to warm up to people. In fact, the first time my friend Mingyu came over, he nearly lost an eye to him.” He chuckled lowly at the memory. 
“Animals usually like me,” you said softly, bringing your hand up to run through Bear’s fur. It was long, and extremely fluffy, “I think they know how much I adore them.” Seungcheol watched on as you smiled down at his now purring cat in your lap. For a brief moment, he wondered what it would be like to adopt another cat with you, or maybe even a dog, before lightly shaking his head to rid himself of such thoughts and rising from the couch. 
“I’m gonna check on dinner, it should be done soon. You’ll probably be… occupied, until then.” Seungcheol gave you a soft smile, which you returned, before walking off into the kitchen. You leaned back into the soft fabric of the couch, absentmindedly running your hand over Bear. 
You could hear the clinking of dishes coming from the kitchen as you loved on Bear. Whatever Seungcheol was cooking smelled absolutely delicious and was making your mouth water. You had only eaten breakfast today, and were on the verge of starving at this point. On top of that, you haven’t had a Christmas meal in ages. You were actually starting to get excited about having dinner with Seungcheol, and you had this purring love bug in your lap, and your glass of wine, to thank. Maybe accepting his invite hadn’t been such a bad thing after all.
“It’s ready!” Seungcheol called from the kitchen, scaring the sleeping cat, causing him to jump up and run off towards the kitchen. “Oh you scaredy cat,” Seungcheol grumbled as Bear slid past him on the floor. You chuckled as you got up from the couch and headed towards the dining table. Upon seeing what Seungcheol had laid out on the table, your eyes widened and you let out a breathy gasp. 
“You made all of this?!” You questioned incredulously. 
“U-uh, yeah? I told you, I used to cook with my grandma. We always made Christmas dinners together,” he ran his hand through his, now messy, locks, “I still try and cook as much as I can, I actually enjoy it. My friend Mingyu has given me lot’s of pointers, too.” He looked away, blush rising to his cheeks.
You looked at all the different assortments of food Seungcheol had prepared. There was a large skillet that contained beef bulgogi, and smaller dishes that housed kimchi, steamed eggs, japchae, and steamed rice. There were also two bowls of some kind of stew that made your mouth water, “It looks amazing, Seungcheol!” You exclaimed, a genuine smile on your face. 
“Well let’s not stare at it all night. Let’s eat!”
You and Seungcheol ate your meal, laughing at each other’s odd Christmas stories from your childhoods. You learned more about his life in Daegu and you told him stories of Jeongyeon and the trouble the two of you got up to in middle school. 
You both had another glass of wine with dinner, feeling looser as the night went on. Bear sat close to his owner, tail flicking idly, waiting for scraps of food to be accidentally flung from chopsticks during conversation. According to Seungcheol, the cat loved eggs, a trait he found both odd and endearing. You were so enthralled in conversation with Seungcheol, you barely registered that the food was nearly gone, two glasses of wine downed, and it was nearing midnight already. Sparing a glance at the oven clock, you realized just how late it was getting.  “Do you mind…” you started, before hesitating, unsure if you wanted to ask. 
“What is it, YN?” Seungcheol encouraged you. He was so kind, always observant, sensing when you needed a little push.
“Would you mind if I went out back to smoke?” You looked away, rubbing your hand up and down your arm, embarrassed that you were about to bring your conversation to and end just because you needed to smoke. Nasty habit, you knew you should quit, but it was hard.
“Oh, of course! Sorry, I didn’t realize it was getting so late,” he started, looking at the clock, getting up from his seat and grabbing dishes, “want me to join you? I can deal with this mess later.”
You grabbed your own plate, following him to the sink and setting it down gently. You hesitated for only a moment before you whispered, “Yeah, I think I’d like that.” You smile at Seungcheol, happy for the company for once.
Seungcheol didn’t have a deck like you, but he had a nice yard with a cute picket fence lining one side. Right off his dining room was a sliding glass door that led to a small concrete patio that was furnished with a couple patio chairs and a fire pit. His land went straight back, down to the lake, just like yours. The only thing separating your properties was a line of shrubs and trees. Seungcheol was busying himself with the fire pit as you sat in one of the chairs. You opened your pack of cigarettes, noticing you only had one left, mentally noting you’d have to run down to the store to grab more tomorrow morning. 
As you lit your cigarette, Seungcheol was lighting a small fire with the wood he kept by the backdoor. You idly wondered if he chopped it himself. With how muscular he was it wouldn’t surprise you. It was a small fire he lit, but it was enough to keep you warm in the freezing weather. Instead of sitting down in the chair across from you, like you expected him to, Seungcheol stood in front of you and held his hand out. For a moment, you were confused, until you realized he wanted you to take his outstretched hand. You complied, placing your free hand in his, turning your head to blow out your previous inhale of smoke. 
Seungcheol gave you a gentle tug, indicating he wanted you to stand up. As you stood, Seungcheol maneuvered himself behind you, so you were standing directly in front of the fire, as he shakily wrapped his arms around your middle. The feeling of his large hands on your waist was doing things to you in your alcohol hazed state. 
“Is this ok?” he asked quietly, lips close to your ear and he set his chin on your shoulder. You nodded slightly, feeling almost dizzy from whatever this feeling was that Seungcheol was causing. You could feel his warm breath on your neck as you took another drag from your cigarette. 
“Does the smoke not bother you?” you asked, a little forced, holding the smoke in your lungs. 
“I just want to be close to you,” he whispers, pausing for a moment, “YN, I like you.” 
You giggled at his comment, releasing the smoke from your chest. “I like you too, Seungcheol.”
“No, YN, I mean I really, really like you.” He was emboldened by the alcohol in his system, not wanting to hold back any longer.
To say you were surprised by his sudden confession would be an understatement. You took a sharp inhale of breath, nearly choking on the cold air, and not because of your cigarette, before Seungcheol began again, “I’m sorry if it’s sudden, or if it’s not what you want to hear right now, but I really need you to know that I enjoy spending time with you, and would love the opportunity to get to know you better, if you’ll allow me.” You tossed the butt of your cigarette into the fire pit, blowing out the final bit of smoke, and hesitantly turned around in Seungcheol’s arms. 
Your arms snaked around his shoulder, criss-crossing behind his neck. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew the things that go on in my head.” The wine was making you bold too, making you want to tell Seungcheol exactly how you felt. “I’m afraid if you get to know me, you wont like what you find.” Your voice was low, but being so close to you, he had no problem hearing your words.
Seungcheol sighed, looking deep into your eyes that have long since lost their sparkle. “I can’t promise you much, YN. I’m a freelance writer who lives in the middle of nowhere. But what I can promise you, is that whatever I find in you, wont send me running. I know what I’ve already found in you - you’re a sweet, compassionate girl, who in just three days has me falling head over heels,” he breathed, inches away from your face, “I’ve never met anyone like you, YN.” Seungcheol brought his hand from your waist up to your face, the chill making you shudder slightly, ever so gently gracing the back of his fingers against your sharp cheekbone. 
You leaned into his touch, not remembering what it was like to be cared for in such a gentle manner. “Seungcheol, I-” you weren’t sure what you wanted to say. You wanted so badly to give in to his sweet words, to let him in and break down your walls for him. You were scared, terrified even, of what that meant. He would learn all about your dark past, your demons, the monsters that threatened to take you down even still. A silent tear trailed down your cheek because of your internal battle. 
Seungcheol was quick to swipe it away with his thumb. “You don’t have to say anything back, YN,” his voice barely a whisper, like if he spoke too loud you’d blow away in the cold breeze, “Just promise me one thing?” You made a sound of confirmation, “One more day.”
At that, you broke down in Seungcheol’s strong arms. Your face pushed into his firm chest, tears flowing freely. Sobs wracked your chest and Seungcheol held you, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You weren’t sure, but you think you feel Seungcheol’s chest rising and falling in a rhythm that made it seem like he was crying with you. You didn’t want to chance a look at him, worried it would break you further. You stood there for what felt like an eternity before you calmed enough to pull back from Seungcheol, hands unclasping from behind his back and coming around to fist in the front of his shirt. “Thank you, Seungcheol. Thank you.” You let out a couple more weak sobs, before hugging him as tightly as you could. You didn’t need to explain, Seungcheol understood.
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You and Seungcheol stayed wrapped up in each other's arms for the better part of the night, having moved inside to the couch, before you were getting too tired to keep your eyes open. Seungcheol was laying against the back of the couch, you slotted in front of him with his arms around your chest, holding you tightly to him. You let out a small yawn, making Seungcheol smile to himself. “Tired, love?” The nickname made your insides heat, despite how tired you were feeling.
You let out another yawn, bringing your hand up to rub your eyes. “Yeah,” you sighed, “I should probably get going.” You really didn’t want to leave, but you knew you should. You would feel a lot better in the morning if you slept in your own bed, not on this too small couch. 
“I’ll walk you home,” Seungcheol offered, standing up from the couch, pulling you with him. You moved to take off his coat before he stopped you with a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.” He smiled down at you, running his hand from your shoulder, down your arm, taking your hand in his. 
You smiled up at the slightly taller man, blushing profusely. You followed Seungcheol through his home, toeing on your shoes at the front door, hands still intertwined. As promised, Seungcheol walked you to your front porch, waiting until you had entered your house and locked the door before walking back to his own home. Once inside, you leaned your back against the door, head tilting until it hit the glass window pane in the middle of it. You sighed to yourself, feeling lighter than you have in years. You weren’t used to this feeling, and on Christmas Eve of all days. Well… You guessed it was probably Christmas now, with how long you spent laying on Seungcheol’s couch. With that thought in mind, you pulled your phone out from Seungcheol’s coat pocket to check the time. Before you could even register the time, you were stopping in your tracks as what greeted you on your phone screen. When was the last time you checked your phone? You’d been so wrapped up in Seungcheol you don’t recall looking at it all night.
On your lock screen, you saw a missed call. Several, actually. From Joshua. 
Your heart stuttered in your chest. Why was he calling you? You haven’t spoken to him in nearly three years. There was no reason for him to be calling you, unless there was some kind of emergency, right? Panicking, you walked further into the cabin, not bothering to take off the coat or your shoes. You sped walked right into your bedroom, eyes glued to your phone the entire time. Should you call him back? You weren’t sure if you wanted to speak to him right now, especially after the wonderful night you had with Seungcheol. But - what if he was calling to apologize, to make things right? Or what if something terrible happened to him? You had to find out.
As you unlocked your phone, you saw the notification for a new voicemail. Hesitantly, you opened your calls app, and clicked on the message from Joshua. You saw it was only about a minute long. Curiosity getting the best of you, you played the message instead of immediately calling him back:
“Y-YN? YN! W-what are you doing baby sister?” you could tell he was drunk from the way he was slurring his words, panic immediately rising in your chest. “Are you at mom and dad’s cabin? Yo-you always did love it there, didn’t you? Loved it so much you even tried ending your own life there!” A sharp laugh came from the phone, causing you to pull it away from your ear for a second. “You know YN, I wish you- you did. I wish I never pulled you out of th-that fucking lake. Then m-maybe I wouldn’t have to relive that God damn nigh-nightmare every fucking n-night YN,” you didn’t want to listen to this anymore, but your morbid curiosity made you keep the phone to your ear, you shut your eyes tight, hot tears welling up behind your eyelids, “G-go be with mom and dad, it’s what you want right?! I just-” the line cut off, ending the voicemail. You stumbled backwards, back hitting your bedroom door and mirror, making a loud clanging sound. You couldn’t see, lights still off, not having bothered with them when you burst in the room. Stunned, you still had the phone to your ear, other hand coming up to push at your eyes, willing the tears to stop forming. You slid down the back of your bedroom door, finally letting go of your phone, causing it to clatter down to the wood floor. Your breathing was ragged, eyes still glued shut in pain and panic. You were panicking. You haven’t had a panic attack in a couple of years, but you knew the signs. You hugged your knees to your chest and fell over on your side, sobbing into your forearms. 
Is that how Joshua, your own brother, really felt all these years? He wished he never saved your life? It shouldn’t be surprising to you, the last memory you have of him is in the back of an ambulance, grief written all over his face. That was the last time you saw him, until he texted you months later after countless missed calls, texts, and emails from you. He told you that you needed help, and that he needed to distance himself from you. Did your actions take such a huge toll on his life, that he wished you were no longer on this planet? In your muddled mind it made sense. He said he’s been reliving the nightmare, pulling you out of that lake must have haunted him. Of course he wanted it to end, why else would he have cut off all contact with you for this long?
You aren’t sure how long you laid on your bedroom floor, sobbing, but it must have been hours. By the time you finally pulled yourself up, you could see the beginnings of morning shining through your window. 
You needed to smoke, or drink, or do something to ease this pain. You remembered briefly that you were out of cigarettes, not willing to drive yourself to the store this early in the morning to buy more. Drinking seemed like it would only worsen your pain right now, so you pulled yourself over to your suitcase, tossing it open on your bed. After a few moments of rifling through your things, you found what you were looking for, before heading off into your bathroom.
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It was Christmas day. Seungcheol hasn’t been this excited for Christmas since he was a teenager, and his mother was still around to make the holidays special. He hasn’t done much for Christmas since he moved out here. Every once in a while, Mingyu would invite him over for Christmas dinner with his wife a couple towns over, but she was pregnant this year and Seungcheol didn’t want to intrude. Mingyu told him he really didn’t mind, but he insisted it was fine, he could spend this year alone. Except, he wouldn’t be alone now.
Seungcheol was actually excited for Christmas today. Sure, he didn’t have a tree, or presents to give, but he had someone to spend it with. Someone special, which was saying a lot for a recluse like him. Wait until he told Mingyu about this, he would tease him to no end.
It was early, an ungodly hour according to Seungcheol on a normal day, but today was different. As he got out of bed, he startled Bear who shot across the floor, out his bedroom door. He smiled to himself and shook his head lightly. Such a scaredy cat, he thought to himself. Seungcheol planned on making some Christmas cookies, or maybe some rice cakes for today (Mingyu’s recipe, of course), before heading over to your house to spend the day with you. After his late night confession yesterday, Seungcheol was feeling bolder than ever when it came to you, and decided to shoot you a quick text to let you know he was thinking about you.
To YN [7:37 am]: good morning, love
To YN [7:37 am]: I hope it’s ok if I come over in a bit
To YN [7:38 am]: I want to let you sleep in a little longer, but I can’t wait to see you
He pocketed his phone, satisfied with his texts, for now. He assumed you were still sleeping since you were at his last night until well after midnight. 
As the morning went on, Seungcheol whipped up traditional rice cakes. By the time he was done, it was nearing nine in the morning, and he was starting to worry slightly that you haven't texted him back. He usually saw you out on your deck having a morning smoke by now, and he had definitely been sneaking glances out his kitchen window to try and catch a glimpse of you. He didn’t see you all morning, which was causing a slight panic to arise in his chest. 
By 9:15, Seungcheol couldn’t contain his panic anymore. Something was wrong. He could feel it. You should be awake by now. You always came out for a cigarette by now. Pulling on a coat, Seungcheol put on his slippers, rice cakes long forgotten, as he trudged over to your front door.
He knocked gently at first, not wanting to startle you if you indeed were just sleeping in. No response. This time, Seungcheol knocked on the door a little harder, making enough noise to wake you up without a doubt. He waited a couple of minutes before the feeling in his chest dropped to his stomach. He felt sick. This isn’t right. 
Seungcheol walked around the front of your house to peer into your bedroom window. He vaguely remembered the location of it from when he carried you in there the first night you met. He put his hands up to the glass and attached his face to his fingers, looking into your room. He didn’t see you, but what he did see worried him even more. Your bedroom door was wide open and your suitcase was open on your bed. He glanced at the driveway to confirm your car was indeed still there before he ran around to your back deck. Seungcheol was in full panic mode now, seconds away from breaking a window. He sincerely hoped he was overreacting, but after everything you’ve shared with him the past few days, he was suspecting the worse. When he got to your sliding glass door, he attempted to open it, and to his surprise it slid right open. He would have to give you a lecture about locking your doors after he made sure you were ok.
“YN?” he called out, slightly louder than he meant to, panic overtaking him, “YN? Love? Are you in here?” Seungcheol walked through your living room hesitantly, almost scared of what he might find. He didn’t see any sign of you, so he trudged down the hallway leading to your bedroom. “YN!?” His voice was starting to become panicked the longer he couldn’t find you. “YN please,” he sighed out, realizing wherever you were you probably weren’t hearing him. He peeked into your room one more time to make sure you really weren’t in there. He didn’t find you, but what he did find was your cellphone, laying on the floor with a cracked screen. Seungcheol tilted his head as he knelt down to pick the phone up. It lit up with the movement, showing him the missed texts from himself, and missed calls from… Joshua? Oh no. “No. No, no, no” Seungcheol whispered to himself. This couldn't be good. He pocketed your phone, making his way further down the hallway. He saw light coming from underneath one of the closed doors and immediately started banging on it. “YN!? YN are you in there? Please love, open the door!” Seungcheol tried turning the door handle, unsurprised when he found it locked. “YN I will break this door down!” He threatened, terrified beyond belief at what he would find when he did.
With one sharp inhale of air, Seungcheol grabbed onto the door handle and shoved his shoulder into the door. Once, twice, and on the third hit it popped open, breaking the doorframe in the process. Seungcheol ignored the stinging pain in his shoulder as soon as he saw your prone form on the bathroom floor, empty pill bottle in the sink. The air left Seungcheol’s lungs as he knelt down next to your head, gently cradling your head in his hands, setting it in his lap. “YN?! No, no! YN!” He was frantically trying to get his phone out of his pocket and unlocked. “YN, honey, please. Please wake up, please. YN you promised. You promised me YN!” his cries were frantic, tears streaming down his face, “You promised me! Please YN!” he begged you to wake up, to be alive, terrified he would never see your eyes light up or your beautiful smile again. Hot tears streamed onto his phone as he dialed for emergency services.
-
Seungcheol sat in the waiting area of the emergency room, speaking quietly into the phone, fingers playing with a frayed edge of his t-shirt. “I don’t know, Mingyu, they won't tell me anything.” He hadn’t stopped crying since he found you on your bathroom floor, now just letting silent tears roll down his cheeks as he waited for any news.
“You’re telling me, you met some girl four days ago, have been spending all your time with her, and you find her, half alive on her bathroom floor? What kind of mess are you getting yourself into Seungcheol? You’ve never been the type to take an interest in girls, much less ones you barely know!” Mingyu half-yelled through the phone. Seungcheol understood why Mingyu was worried, he really did, but he was just looking for some kind of anchor right now to keep him grounded.
“Gyu, please,” Seungcheol barely whimpered into the phone, lip trembling, “I l- I don’t want to lose her.” He wasn’t ready to say the words yet, not when he wasn’t sure if you were even going to make it. 
Mingyu heaved a heavy sigh, obviously frustrated with the situation. “I’m really sorry, hyung. I wish I could tell you she was going to be alright, she’s - what was her name again?”
“YN.” 
“Right, YN. From what you’ve told me, it seems like you got to her before it was too late, right? I’m sure everything will be fine. You said they’re pumping her stomach now, I’m sure it won't be much longer before you have more answers,” Mingyu sounded like he wanted to add on to that, but thought better of it, “Do you need me to come by? Eunha is at her parents house right now, I hung back to talk to you, I don’t mind-”
“Mingyu, no. It’s fucking Christmas. I’m sorry for taking you away-” he sniffled harder, “away from your family.” The dam is broken now, Seungcheol was unable to stop the tears from flowing, sobs wracking his small frame. 
Mingyu’s heart broke at the sound of his oldest friend’s tears. He didn’t mind leaving his wife for a few hours, he knew she was safe with her parents, probably about to start working on dinner for tonight. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, hyung. Hang in there.”
Seungcheol let out a shaky sigh, looking down at his now black phone screen. He felt like he was underwater, like his heart was beating in his ears. He could vaguely hear the chatter of the nurses and people in the waiting room, but his sole focus was on the pounding in his chest and the sinking feeling in his gut. All he could think about was you; what drove you to this? What could he have done differently last night to ensure your safety? Why was your brother calling you insistently throughout the morning? Most importantly, were you going to be ok? He didn’t want to think about that right now, couldn’t think about that right now, unless he wanted the hospital to have to admit him, too. 
Before Seungcheol could spiral any further, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see his younger friend, dressed in gray sweats and a loose black pullover. Mingyu had a sad look in his eyes, not pity, but heartache at the pain his friend was feeling. Mingyu squatted down in front of Seungcheol, his tall stature making them eye level, hand still on his shoulder, “Hey man. Any news?” He asked, solemnly. 
Seungcheol shook his head slightly, trying to collect himself enough to utter a few words. “No. Nothing.” Seungcheol squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to stop, just for a moment. His effort was all in vain, as Mingyu took hold of Seungcheol’s hand, pulling him up into the taller man’s chest, embracing him. Seungcheol’s smaller frame seemed tiny in this moment, shoulders shrunk in on themselves, as Mingyu hugged the broken man.
“Why don’t you tell me about her?” Mingyu whispered to Seungcheol, rubbing a hand up and down his back comfortingly. “We can grab some coffee and you can tell me all about her.” Mingyu wanted to get Seungcheol away from this waiting room full of curious eyes, and wanted him to relax a little. He knew he was going to want to see you as soon as you were in the clear, and he wanted to make sure he was in a good enough state to do so. He could feel Seungcheol nod against his chest, pulling away but still keeping one arm around the shorter man’s shoulders. 
Seungcheol and Mingyu sat at a quiet table in the corner of the hospital cafeteria, nursing two black coffees. Seungcheol was staring out of the window to his right, not really paying attention to what Mingyu was saying.
“Seungcheol, do you want to talk about it? How did you guys even meet?”
Seungcheol gave a small shrug, “She’s been visiting every year since I moved into my grandma’s house. I just now finally built up the courage to say hi. She seemed sad.” had a permanent frown in his brow. 
“So you wanted to say hello because she seemed sad?” Mingyu seemed unconvinced, still confused at his hyung’s actions, being so out of the ordinary for Seungcheol.
“Yes, Gyu, what more do you want from me?” Seungcheol shot the younger man a glare from where he sat across from him.
Mingyu leaned back slightly, holding his hands up in a pacifying manner. “Hey, hey, man. I just want to hear about her, want you to tell me about her. That’s all.” He said in a hushed tone.
Seungcheol looked down at his coffee, focusing on the small billows of steam rising from it. “I’m sorry - I just -” he looked up at Mingyu, unshed tears threatening to fall again, “She’s perfect, you know? She doesn’t deserve any of this pain. She’s lost her parents, her brother, basically everyone who cared about her. I just wanted to- to be someone she could lean on,” he blinked rapidly, trying to rid the tears before adding on, “I think I love her, Gyu.”
Mingyu’s eyes widened a fraction before he schooled his expression, nodding his head. “I support you Seungcheol, you know that. I always will.” Seungcheol nodded at this. He knew it, would never forget it. Him and Mingyu had been through so much together, that’s why he was the first person Seungcheol called when he got to the hospital this morning. “What do you think happened that caused her to do this?”
Seungcheol bit his lip, remembering he had your phone tucked away in his pocket still. He slid it out, setting it on the tabletop between him and Mingyu. “I’m not sure… but I think it has something to do with her brother calling her.” As if he was summoned, Joshua’s name appeared on the small screen, phone vibrating so violently it moved a little across the table, the sound loud in the silence of the room. He’d been calling all morning, and from what Seungcheol could gather from your lock screen, all night, too. It wasn’t his place to go through your phone, or to answer the calls from your brother, especially if him calling had anything to do with your current condition.
“Are you going to answer him?” Mingyu hesitantly asked, looking from the phone, to Seungcheol, and back again as the vibrating faded out. 
Seungcheol shook his head quickly, causing a sharp pain to shoot through his temple. He really needed to stop crying, he thought. “No. What if he’s the reason she’s here in the first place?”
“He’s her brother right? Her family?” Mingyu started, seeing Seungcheol nod in confirmation he continued, “don’t you think he should know his sister is in the hospital for attempted suicide?”
Seungcheol scoffed. He was bitter, but part of him knew Mingyu was right. He’s still her family, after all. Would it be the right thing to do, to tell him you’re here? Would he even want to see you? From what you’ve told Seungcheol about your brother, he doesn’t think so. “He left her the last time it happened, hasn’t spoken to her since,” Seungcheol mumbled, almost too quietly for Mingyu to hear, “I’m not sure he would even care.”
Mingyu pursed his lips. He doesn’t know you, nor is he going to pretend to know what it’s like to be in your shoes. Seungcheol knew you better than he did, so he was going to take Seungcheol’s word for it. “Want to head back up? See if there’s any news?” Seungcheol nodded, looking down at the floor. The both grabbed their to-go cups and headed towards the elevators. 
-
Pain. Seething hot pain in your throat, that’s all you mind was focusing on right now. Your vision was black, and no matter how hard you tried to make a sound, nothing would come out. It felt like a thousand hot knives were forcing themselves down your esophagus, blocking any air flow. You were suffocating, this must be what it feels like to die, right? Because the last thing you remember was laying down on the cool tile floor of your bathroom after you swallowed your entire bottle of antidepressants. The pain in your throat must be from the excessive amount of pills you downed, right? Nothing else could explain this excruciating pain. You were obviously being punished for taking fate into your own hands. That was the only reasonable explanation you could come up with in your current state of mind.
“She’s waking up!” 
Wait. Why can you hear people? If there were people around, were you alive? 
“Administer more Propofol, she needs to be unconscious for this.”
No. No, no, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to be gone. You wanted to be gone, but right now all you could think about now was making this pain stop. You silently prayed that whoever was helping you would make this pain go away as quickly as possible. 
-
Seungcheol was leaning on Mingyu’s firm shoulder, both sitting on ugly plastic green chairs in the hospital waiting room. A nurse had informed Seungcheol that you were out of the operating room, and were moved to a more private ward of the hospital to recover. He wasn’t allowed in yet, as they wanted to monitor you a little while longer to make sure you were out of the woods. They explained to him that the first few hours after an overdose were the most crucial if there was any hope of the brain recovering if there was any damage. 
Seungcheol was distraught, to say the least. Torn between calling Joshua and waiting. He knew you didn’t have your parents anymore, knew that you and your brother didn’t speak, despite the 100 plus missed calls on your phone that said otherwise. He wasn’t sure if you had any friends back home in Busan, but from what you’ve told him, he guessed you didn’t. He remembers you telling him about Jeongyeon and how she moved to the States, so he figured she was out of the question as well. He was worried that you wouldn’t remember what happened when you woke up, and you would be confused and scared, alone in the hospital. He thought about calling your brother, just so you’d have a familiar face to wake up to, but the devil on his shoulder wouldn’t let him make the call. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that if you did, in fact, remember what happened, the last person you’d want to see is Joshua. 
Mingyu was deathly silent, texting his wife and family updates about you and Seungcheol. Despite not knowing Seungcheol well, or you at all, Mingyu and his entire extended family took an interest in your well-being. Mingyu told them how you had no family, and they completely understood why he was missing Christmas dinner, being the kind and caring people Seungcheol knew them to be. Especially Eunha, he was honored to be able to call her a sister, just as he was to call Mingyu his chose brother. Seungcheol felt bad for keeping him, but Mingyu reassured him over and over again, this is where he wants to be right now. 
“Mr. Choi?” a mouse-like voice called from the circular desk at the center of the waiting area. 
Seungcheol shot ramrod straight in his seat, eyes searching for the voice. A short, dark-haired woman who looked to be around Seungcheol’s age, was making her way towards him. She had a sweet smile on her face, which only minutely lessened Seungcheol’s worries.
“Mr. Choi?” She asked again, hesitantly. She waited for Seungcheol’s grunt in confirmation before continuing, “I don’t have anyone listed as Miss Y/LN’s next of kin, so since you were the one who brought her here, would you like an update on her status?” He voice was kind and soft, respectful of the environment they were currently in.
Seungcheol cleared his throat lightly, “Ye-yes, of course. Yes.” He stuttered out, standing up and moving towards the kind nurse. He glanced over his shoulder at Mingyu, who gave him a small smile, encouraging him to go with the lady.
“I’ll be fine, do what you need to do,” Mingyu waved him off.
The young nurse nodded and turned around, walking back towards the desk. Seungcheol trailed after her like a lost puppy, waiting for answers. “Mr. Choi, we’re going to be keeping Miss Y/LN here at the hospital for a few days. She’s been put under suicide watch for 72 hours, as is protocol with cases like these,” Seungcheol nodded solemnly, understanding the severity of the situation, “I see you listed on her intake paperwork that this wasn’t her first attempt. Is that right?”
Seungcheol nodded his head. He didn’t like sharing your personal stories with this stranger, but he understood it was going to help them better care for you, which is all he wanted. “Yes. She had attempted… yeah. Three years ago.” 
The woman nodded her head, writing something on the clipboard she now held in her hands. “Thank you, Mr. Choi. We’re going to continue to monitor her, but her vitals are looking good, and there are no outward signs of brain damage right now. This could change however, as once she’s awake and alert, her doctor will want to do another brain scan.”
Seungcheol nodded, just glad you were alive and breathing. 
“She’s not awake yet, the sedatives are still wearing off, but they’ve removed intubation and she’s resting,” Seungcheol winced at this fact, “would you like to see her?”
Seungcheol’s eyes finally met the small nurses after staring daggers into the hospital linoleum. “I can see her?”
The woman gave a short nod and a gentle smile. “Of course. I can tell you care a lot about her. She’s very lucky to have you, sir.”
Seungcheol nodded, looking down again. He didn’t feel very lucky, and didn’t think you would either right about now. But he accepted the compliment anyway.
“Follow me.” 
Seungcheol followed the lady back through two industrial looking double doors, past sterile smelling hospital rooms and nurses and doctors moving rapidly up and down the corridors. Seungcheol always hated hospitals, they reminded him of when his mother and his grandmother passed away. He was so hyper focused on walking, he barely heard her when the nurse spoke again. “Before you go in, it’s best to take a moment to prepare yourself for what you’re going to see. It can be really hard to see a loved one in this state, so I’m here to answer any questions you may have,” she advised kindly as she came to a stop outside your room. Seungcheol’s stomach fluttered at the mention of you being his ‘loved one’ and he mentally scolded himself. This nurse had no idea about the strange dynamic that is your relationship, if you could even call it that. 
Seungcheol shook his head lightly, indicating he didn’t have any questions, at least, not for her. She gave one nod of her head, before clutching her clipboard to her chest. “My name is Mina, I’m the hospital’s care coordinator, please let me know if you need anything. I wish you the best, Mr. Choi.” She said as she walked away. 
Seungcheol took a deep breath through his mouth, exhaling slowly through his nose. He wasn’t prepared to see you in a hospital bed, but his excitement at seeing you alive was overtaking his senses right now. He slowly pushed the door to your room open, taking two hesitant steps through the threshold. His eyes immediately scanned the room, falling over your fragile, but breathing, body. As Seungcheol quietly shut the door behind him, tears automatically started falling down his cheeks, silent sobs wracking his chest. He swiftly closed the gap between him and your bed, lip trembling, and took your cold, limp hand in his. He didn’t even bother pulling one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs with him, he just knelt on the floors, kneecaps be damned. He wasn’t sure how he was going to react when he saw you, he knew he would feel relief at knowing you were alive, but he didn’t expect to be quite so overcome with emotion. He definitely didn’t expect to feel intense happiness at the fact that he could hold you again. You had no idea the effect you had on him, and in only four short days. 
You laid on the hospital bed, dressed in one of those white, scratchy hospital gowns. Your eyes were even more sunken in than Seungcheol remembers, skin sallow and taking on an almost sickly green color. Your hair was a mess, and Seungcheol inwardly cursed the nurses for not at least brushing through it for you. Your arm was bruised purple and green at the crease of your elbow where your IV now sat. Your bottom half was covered by a thick blue blanket that looked a little itchy. Seungcheol grabbed the top of the blanket with his free hand, moving it up farther on your body, tucking it lightly at your far side. Even in this state, you looked beautiful to him. Despite what has taken place over the last 12 or so hours, he was still enraptured by you and your beauty. 
Seungcheol brought your bony hand up to his face, placing a soft, lingering kiss on the back of your knuckles. He vaguely registered that it was your first ‘kiss’. He would need to make up for that later, once you were home and safe. His head hurt, his eyes hurt, and his heart hurt. He didn’t have any more tears to cry, just silent sobs as he laid his forehead on your cold hand. 
Eventually Mingyu made his way up to your room, after being informed by Mina that Seungcheol was up there with you. He knocked softly on the door twice before opening it and entering. Seungcheol was still knelt on the floor by your bed. Mingyu sighed and knelt down next to him
“She’s gonna be ok hyung,” Mingyu started, placing his hand on Seungcheol’s back, “you should rest before she wakes up.”
Seungcheol nodded, allowing Mingyu to pull a chair over for him before sitting down in it, never letting go of your hand. Mingyu sat in a chair a little bit behind Seungcheol, making sure the older man knew he was there for support. They sat in silence like that for a while before Seungcheol started to feel drowsy, eyes falling shut and drifting into a fitful sleep, forehead pressed to your bed. 
-
You slowly blinked your eyes open, squinting from the bright lights above you. An intense smell of bleach hit your nose causing your throat to constrict and burn. The burn. It was still there, but dulled from last time you remember. You closed your eyes again, squeezing them shut in pain as you tried to swallow, causing a small, yet hoarse, whimper to emit from your throat. 
Immediately, Seungcheol’s head shot up at the sound of you. He started rubbing soothing circles onto the back of your hand, still clutched in his. “YN,” he whispered, standing from his seated position, moving even closer to your body.
You blinked your eyes a few times before looking up at Seungcheol. He could see the pain in your eyes with the way they were scrunched up cutely at the sides. You brought your hand to your throat subconsciously and Seungcheol knew what you meant. He grabbed the pitcher of water from your bedside table and poured you a cup, passing it to you. You silently thanked him with a nod of your head and started gulping down the water. Seungcheol sat back down and watched you carefully. He heard Mingyu stand from behind him, dimmed the lights, having watched how you were squinting your eyes, and quietly left the room to give you both some privacy. Seungcheol reminded himself to thank him profusely later for the man’s foresight, but right now his focus was on you.
You finished the cup of water and Seungcheol took it from your hand and set it back on the side table. “YN,” he whispered again, bringing his hand up to brush against your cheek, “you’re ok.” He smiled at you, genuinely smiled for the first time since last night. He was so beyond happy to see you, alive and well in front of him. 
You had a million thoughts running through your mind right now, and Seungcheol could tell by the panic stricken look flashing in your eyes. He soothingly rubbed his hand up and down your arm that was free of any tubes. “It’s ok, love,” he comforted, “I’m here to listen if you want to talk, or if you don’t I’ll sit here with you in silence. You don’t need to explain yourself. I’m just happy you’re ok.” He smiled at you, and even though you could feel the love radiating off of him, you felt sick to your stomach.
How could Seungcheol still want to be by your side after what you had done? How could he still want to comfort you when you were like this? You broke your promise to him. You had a lot of questions, but there was one at the forefront of your mind. “Did you find me?” Your voice was rough from the intubation tube, which you guessed was the reason for your throat burning before. You looked away from Seungcheol when you asked, not being brave enough to meet his eye, in fear of what you might find. 
He sighed lightly, almost inaudibly. “Yes.” You could tell without even looking at him that he was choking up, on the verge of tears. At the sound of his voice, you let your own hot tears roll down your cheeks, not bothering to wipe them away, eyes still not meeting his. A large hand immediately came up to wipe them away. “Hey, don’t cry, love,” he whispered, “I’m not mad, I’m not upset. These are happy tears, I promise.”
“I’m not happy,” you sniffled, “I’m sorry, Seungcheol, that you had to see me like that.” You brought your own hand up to your face to wipe at your nose. 
“YN, I don’t care about that. I swear to you, all that matters to me now is you. I want to keep you safe, want to help you fight this battle so you don’t have to do it alone. You have me, all of me.” His words were so sincere, so loving, you spared a glance at him, and the moment your eyes met, you knew he meant everything that he said. Even in your current state, he sent butterflies erupting throughout your stomach. You took in his face for a moment, red and puffy, tear stained cheeks, but his eyes were happy. You felt safe with him. You knew you’d have to talk about what all this means later, explain to him why you did what you did, but for now, you just wanted to be in his presence. 
-
Seungcheol sat with you for the next few hours, texting Mingyu to head home to his family, apologizing profusely for keeping him away on Christmas. You didn’t talk much, just offering sweet smiles when Seungcheol would check to make sure you were doing ok. Like the nurse told Seungcheol earlier, your doctor came in to take you for a brain scan and to run some other tests. Seungcheol waited patiently in your room while you were being tested. 
When you returned, the doctor checked your vitals again, before letting you both know that he would be back in the morning to run some more tests, and give you the results of the brain scan. You both thanked him quietly before he wished you a merry Christmas, and took his leave.
Alone again with Seungcheol, you felt his calm aura wash over you. “Thank you,” you whispered quietly into the dim room, “I’m sorry I ruined your Christmas,” you said with a slight frown.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Seungcheol assured, walking over to your bed and sitting next to you, “There is no place I’d rather be than by your side.”
Just as Seungcheol finished his sentence, a violent buzzing resounded through the room. Seungcheol’s eyes went wide as dinner plates as he realized your phone was still in his pocket. Hesitantly, he brought it out of the back of his jeans and showed you what was on the screen.
You flinched when you saw your cell phone. You knew you’d have to confront Joshua and Seungcheol about what happened sooner or later, but you were really hoping it would be the latter. You reached out for your phone, pushing the red decline button. Seungcheol looked at you with an unreadable expression as you let the phone fall to your side onto the bed.
You sighed, looking at Seungcheol, lips pursed. “Go ahead, you can ask me,” you offered, rubbing a hand down the front of your face.
Seungcheol looked sheepishly at you. Of course he wanted to know what happened, but he didn’t want to push you to tell him or to relive whatever it was that pushed you that far in the first place. His curiosity got the better of him as he chewed his lip raw. “What happened?” His voice was barely a whisper, the beeping of the equipment in the hospital room almost enough to mask it. 
“Joshua was calling me, I guess, while we were having dinner last night,” you wrung your hands together, trying to warm them up in the frigid temperature in your room, “I didn’t think to check my phone until after you walked me home.” Seungcheol reached over to stop your ministrations, cupping both your hands in his and blowing warm breath between them. You smiled slightly at his thoughtful actions before continuing, “He was drunk, I think. I don’t know if he even realized what he said, but - but he left me a voicemail,” your voice was getting quieter the further into your story you got, “he said he wished I had succeeded three years ago, that he wished he never saved me.” Your words shocked Seungcheol, hell they shocked you. You still couldn’t believe that Joshua said those things. The mere thought almost sending you into another panic attack.
Seungcheol was seething. He had his suspicions that this was your brother’s doing, but he didn’t expect those words to fall from your mouth. He gripped your hands just a little bit together as he brought the back of them to his lips, forcing his emotions down. Seungcheol bit down hard on his tongue to stop him from saying exactly what he wanted to say about your idiot brother, but he knew that you were still hurting, still recovering, and didn’t want to upset you or hurt you even further.
“YN - I’m sure he was just drunk,” he starts, before he realizes that the man who calls himself your brother has no excuse for what he said to you, “that does not, and I mean does not, give him an excuse to treat you like that, but you literally haven’t heard from him in what? Three years?” You nodded your head, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. Seungcheol gently reached up and thumbed at your bottom lip, pulling it away from the assault of your teeth before continuing, “He’s called you over a hundred times since last night. I haven’t answered, he doesn’t know you’re here, as far as I know. If you don’t want to tell him, don’t want to talk to him, I will support you, but I also think it would be good for you to get closure from him. Even if that means cutting him out of your life.” 
You nodded slowly, taking in Seungcheol’s words. You knew he was right. You didn’t want to go through life wondering if Joshua really meant what he said, if he was sorry, if he still thinks about you. You decided to table the conversation for now. It’s not doing anyone any good stressing yourself out about it. First, you needed to have a serious conversation with Seungcheol about what exactly was happening between the two of you. You didn’t want there to be any questions when you went home from the hospital, wanted to feel secure in the choices you were about to make.
“Seungcheol?”
“Yes, darling.” Seungcheol said cooly, still holding onto your hands. He was doing that a lot today and you definitely weren’t complaining. 
“What is this?” You pulled one of your hands gently from Seungcheol’s grasp and gestured half-assedly between you both. 
Seungcheol’s brow furrowed momentarily before smoothing out and giving you a soft look and grabbing your escaped hand again. “YN - I - I don’t know what you’re expecting,” here it goes, you thought, he’s going to reject you. He’s going to say that this was all too much and he’s only here because he feels guilty. “I really didn’t want to do this here, while you’re lying in a hospital bed,” he scoffs lightly, shaking his head. Your heart drops. Is he really going to leave like this? You bite both your lips between your teeth, looking away to brace yourself for what he’s about to say. “YN, I think I’m in love with you.”
Your head shoots up so quickly you think you might have whiplash. Seungcheol giggles quietly at your reaction, bright smile on display for a moment. “W-what?” Is the dignified answer you sputter out. 
This time, Seungcheol is looking you directly in the eyes when he says, “I love you, YN. I know it’s only been a few days since we met, but I already can’t imagine my life without you in it. I don’t care what hurdles we have to get past, I don’t care about all your baggage that you seem to think will scare me away, and I definitely don’t care that you seem to think you aren’t worth it. I know you’re worth it, you’re worth all of it.” Before you could form a response, Seungcheol is standing up from his chair, wrapping both arms around your small frame and bending a little awkwardly to pull you up slightly to a sitting position. A beat passes before you realize he’s trying to hug you, and you quickly wrap your arms around his neck the best you can while  attached to all the wires and tubes. Seungcheol nuzzles into your hair, which you think is probably a horrid mess right now, and whispered close to your ear, “They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? I thought I lost you forever, that’s the biggest absence I could’ve felt from you. It made me realize I never want to let you go again.” He pulls back slightly, placing the softest kiss to your cheek before placing his forehead against yours.
You looked up at him through your now wet lashes, and you don’t even have to think about your next words, “I love you too, Seungcheol. You make me feel safe. Something I haven’t felt in a really, really long time.” You choked out the last couple of words, tears making their way down your cheeks now. “I’m so sorry I put you through this, I’m so sorry I broke my promise.” You were sobbing again. 
“Shh,” he shushes you quietly against your hair, “It’s okay, love. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters. Whatever we need to work through, we will. Together.”
“Thank you Seungcheol, I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, YN. I just want to see you continue living your life.”
You sniffled, pulling back from Seungcheol to give him a smile. “Merry Christmas, Seungcheol.”
“Merry Christmas, my love.”
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You were stuck in the hospital for the mandatory three days after Christmas, something you were unfortunately familiar with. During that time they ran multiple tests to make sure you didn’t have any lasting damage and you met with two different therapists. Sadly, you knew and understood these procedures, as this wasn’t the first time you went through them. The second therapist you met with suggested putting you on a different antidepressant from the ones you had before, along with an anti-anxiety medication for at least the next few weeks to get you through the holidays. 
Seungcheol stayed with you almost the entire time (aside from going home to check on Bear and to shower), sleeping on two chairs pushed together, despite you inviting him up on your bed multiple times. He refused on the grounds of ‘I don’t want my first time in bed with you to be at the hospital’, to which you rolled your eyes at. He brought back Uno to play with you at the hospital and even picked up some chicken from the restaurant you like instead of the hospital food you complaied about every night. Seungcheol had really lightened your mood over the last few days, mixed with the new medications, you were almost feeling back to your ‘normal’ self, or at least as normal as you could be. 
You and Seungcheol had decided that it would be best if you took at least one more week off work to recover after the new year, and Seungcheol was quick to offer to stay with you at your cabin, or have you come stay with him at his, enticing you with Bear cuddles. Eventually you decided on alternating between the two houses to give you a little reprieve from the memories your cabin will inevitably bring back. Neither of you were dim, you both knew being at the hospital was like a vacation away from your demons. When you stepped foot back in that house, you would likely struggle, at least a little bit more than you are here. The second therapist you saw not so gently indicated to Seungcheol that you shouldn’t be left alone, to which he cooly agreed without making you feel too embarrassed. 
Being on bed rest for a few days, on top of having your stomach pumped, really did a number on your muscles. You were consistently sore, and were almost too weak to walk on your own. Seungcheol was quite the gentleman, massaging your calves when they hurt and walking you to the bathroom when you needed it. You felt lucky to be loved by him. You wanted to be able to show him just how much you could love him in return, and made a mental note to do just that once you recovered. 
On your second night in the hospital, a man by the name of Mingyu came by to check on you and Seungcheol. He introduced himself as Seungcheol’s best friend and you learned he was married with a baby due in just a few weeks. He was kind and handsome, just like Seungcheol. You also found out that he had stayed with Seungcheol at the hospital, on Christmas, while you were unconscious. You vehementaly apologized to the man, getting into a bowing battle while you were sitting on the edge of your bed, while he refused your apologies. You decided you really liked Mingyu and his dorky and aloof personality and were glad Seungcheol had such a great friend to be there for him. 
You were finally being released on December 28th into Seungcheol’s care, something he wasn’t going to take lightly. The hospital made him sign paperwork saying he would keep an eye on you, ensuring someone was always with you for the next two weeks. While it made you feel slightly like a teenager again, you couldn’t deny that you probably needed it, and were just thankful it was Seungcheol who would be the one watching over you and not your idiot brother. 
It was nearing seven in the evening, well past sunset, when Seungcheol rolled your wheelchair, another accommodation you tried to fight, out to his car. He helped you into the front seat, making sure you were comfortable before strapping you in with the seatbelt, closing the door, and jogging to the driver’s side. 
Seungcheol clapped his hands together and rubbed them furiously together for a moment. “It’s freezing! Let’s get you home, baby!” He flashed you a bright smile before starting the engine. 
You giggled at his antics and felt your cheeks heat at the pet name, covering your mouth with your hand. You were feeling pretty good on the drive home, Seungcheol looking over at you every couple of minutes to make sure you were alright and the heater was warm enough. You had lost a bit more weight in the hospital and your limbs were exceptionally cold. You were curled up in the passenger seat watching the trees zoom past the window. Sometime during the drive, Seungcheol reached over across the center console and placed his large hand over your knee, the warmth seeping through the leggings you were wearing. You glanced over at him, softly smiling at eachother, and placed your much smaller hand over his, intertwining your fingers together. 
The drive wasn’t long back to your cabin, maybe twenty minutes, but in those twenty minutes, you grew excited. Excited to spend time with Seungcheol tonight, to lay with each other in your bed, excited for the future for what felt like the first time since your parents passed. You pictured your parents for a moment, a fleeting thought, what would they think of Seungcheol? You wish they could’ve met him. You’re sure your mom would have loved his kind nature and his ability to cook. Your dad would have liked that he had good manners and was always a gentleman. You turned your head to look out the window, smiling sadly to yourself. You were sad they were gone, of course, but you were also happy in this moment and you didn’t want your memories to subtract from that. 
“Almost home, love.” Seungcheol said, squeezing your knee. You didn’t realize you had just about dozed off, head leaning on the window. You pulled your hand away from Seungcheol’s to rub at your eyes briefly. “Uh, YN?” You looked up at Seungcheol in confusion, his tone almost panicked. “Whose car is that?”
Your eyes immediately found the car in question, a sleek, black sports car, parked behind your crappy silver sedan in the cabin’s driveway. It only took you a moment to realize by the custom license plate ‘1230’ that it was your brother’s. 
You swallowed the lump in your throat as Seungcheol turned into his own driveway. He could tell by your reaction, you didn’t want to see the owner of that car. 
“My brother.”
-
It took you a good thirty minutes of pacing Seungcheol’s kitchen and countless encouragements from the man himself to build up the courage to go over to your cabin. You had so many questions; why was Joshua here? How long had he been there? How did he get in? You know you had the locks changed in the last three years since the incident. What confused you the most though, is the fact that his calls completely stopped after Christmas day. You had assumed that he had given up trying to contact you and went on with his life, but apparently he had different plans. Had he been here the entire time? Why had the calls stopped? You had more questions than answers as you paced around.
“Are you ready baby?” Seungcheol asked you from the kitchen, standing up from pouring food into Bear’s bowl.
“I really don’t know, Seungcheol,” you twisted your wrist in your other hand, a nervous habit, “What if he’s here to yell at me again?” You stomach was doing flips thinking of all the things Joshua might have to say to you. Of all the things you had to say to him.
“YN, I really don’t think he blew your phone up for a day and then drove all the way out here to yell at you,” Seungcheol started softly, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, “and besides, if he is here to yell at you, I’ll be right by your side the entire time. You know I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, right?” His voice and his deep brown eyes were so sincere that your brain couldn’t help but cave.
You nodded, letting out a deep sigh. Seungcheol smiled at you and pinched your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, brought your face up to meet his gently, and placed a kiss on your forehead. Your eyes fell shut and you felt all the tension in your body flow out of you at once. This man really did have an immense effect on you, and you were thankful for that in this moment. “It’s now or never, I guess.”
You and Seungcheol walked hand in hand over to your cabin, standing at your front door, you hesitated before unlocking it. Seungcheol squeezed your hand as a silent gesture to let you know he was with you. You took a few cautious steps into the house, silently looking around the open living room. No sign of Shua yet.
As you stepped around the corner, you could hear faint rustling coming from one of the rooms. “Shua?” You called gently, probably not quite loud enough for anyone to hear. “Joshua?” You called a little louder. The rustling stopped. Now you heard quick footsteps, loud clumsy footsteps that you could never mistake having lived with them for a majority of your life, heading in your direction. You stood half in front of Seungcheol, your hand still intertwined with his behind your back waiting for your brother to appear. 
Joshua stumbled out of his old bedroom, looking not at all what you expected him to look like. He was wearing an old pair of black sweatpants and a faded t-shirt that you think once had your father’s college alumni printed on it. His light ash brown hair, that’s new, was disheveled and sticking out in every direction, looking like he had run his hand through it at least a thousand times. But what shocked you the most, was the pure panic in his eyes. As soon as his eyes met yours, the panic seemed to dissipate, though it didn’t completely disappear. He rushed over to you, placing both his large hands on the tops of your shoulders, startling you and causing you to bump into Seungcheol behind you.
“YN - Oh my god, YN,” Joshua started to sob, head dropping down onto your shoulder. You felt Seungcheol let go of your hand and placed both of his hands on your waist, holding you steady against his chest. “Thank God you’re ok! Where the hell have you been!?” Joshua was full on crying into your shoulder now, tears staining Seungcheol’s sweatshirt he had let you wear home from the hospital. You were still pretty weak on your legs from the bedrest, so you started to wobble a bit from the pressure Joshua was putting on you.
You started to bring your hand up to lightly push back from Joshua to maintain your balance, bracing yourself against Seungcheol. Joshua looked at you with confusion in his eyes, before he glanced up seemingly noticing the blonde man behind you for the first time.
“Who the hell are you?” Joshua demanded, though he didn’t sound very threatening with tears flowing down his face. 
“I-” Seungcheol started, but you cut him off, feeling suddenly defensive of the man behind you. You knew your brother’s anger, you were intimately familiar with it and Seungcheol deserved none of it. 
“My boyfriend,” you started, causing Seungcheol’s eyes to widen slightly. It’s not that he didn’t like the new title, he was just shocked, hearing it come from you. “Why are you here, Shua?”
“Boy- boyfriend? YN what is going on? Is that where you’ve been? Sleeping around with him?” You furrowed your brow, mouth dropping open. Was he drunk again? 
“Are you fucking drunk again, Joshua?!” You started to raise your voice, attempting to pull away from Seungcheol, but he wasn’t letting you move any further, worried for both you and your brother at this point. He’s never heard you raise your voice, and if he’s being honest, it’s rather intimidating.
“Yeah YN, I am! I drove 3 hours down to this God forsaken cabin last night to find my baby sister missing, nowhere to be found with the front door wide open and an empty bottle of pills in the bathroom. How the fuck do you think I was supposed to deal with this?!” He was near screaming at this point. Well, the door explains how Joshua got into the house. 
You raised your finger up and pointed it right at Joshua’s chest, “Oh, I don’t know Shua, maybe you could have actually gone out and looked for me instead of sitting on your ass and drinking yourself to death!” Seungcheol had a tight grip on your upper arms at this point, making sure you didn’t get physical. He was pretty sure your brother wouldn’t hurt you, he hoped, but he couldn’t say the same for you. 
Joshua scoffed at you, taking a small step forward so your finger pushed into his firm chest. “I thought you were dead YN! I was fucking terrified I was going to find you out in that God damned lake, frozen to death. I- I-” he stuttered out, fresh tears building up at his lashes and anger dissipating in a mere instant, “I was scared. I didn’t want to find you out there again.”
Though Joshua’s anger seemed to be gone, yours was only building. “Scared? You were scared!? Why!? Because if you found me out there, you knew it would have been your fault?” You spit the last words at your brother, jabbing your finger harder into his chest, you knew it was low, but he literally said it himself in his voicemail, what did you owe him in this moment?
You watched as Joshua let the tears fall down his cheeks, biting at his trembling lower lip. “I’m so - so sorry, YN,” he whimpered, actually whimpered. You don’t think you’ve ever heard your older brother whimper. “You have to under- understand that I didn’t mean what I said the other night. I listened to the voicemail a few hours after I left it and I- I was so worried when you weren’t answering your phone. I wanted to apologize, take it back, but I was scared it was too late. I even called the police the day after to ask if they- th-” he didn’t need to finish that sentence, you knew what he meant. If they found your body. You heard Seungcheol inhale a sharp breath behind you, obviously affected by what Joshua was trying to say. You nearly forgot he has been a witness to this whole scene, he’s been so patient and quiet. “They said they didn’t find… anyone. I tried to let it go, tried to let you ignore me, but I couldn’t. I had to come down here and see for myself.”
“Well, here I am. You can leave. Now,” you spat, turning around and walking towards your kitchen. “C’mon Seungcheol,” you mumbled, taking Seungcheol’s hand in yours. 
“YN - wait,” it wasn’t your brother’s voice that heard say those words, but Seungcheol’s. You stopped and turned around, staring at him like he grew two heads. He took a step closer to you, placing his hands atop your shoulders, “You need closure, YN,” he whispered softly down at you. Your eyes softened at his ability to stay so calm and level headed throughout this entire ordeal. You blinked up at him a few times before nodding your head. 
Seungcheol didn’t want to put you in a position you were uncomfortable with and he knew you didn’t want to look at your brother right now. Hell, he wanted to beat the shit out of Joshua himself, his anger only growing throughout your conversation with him, but he knew you needed this. He knew this would be the first step in your healing. 
You took a few steps past Seungcheol, stopping a few feet in front of your brother. Joshua, who had previously been staring a hole through the carpet, met your eyes with his glistening ones. Yes, he said horrible things to you. Yes, he has treated you as if you don’t exist for the past three years. But, he’s still your brother, right? He’s quite literally the only family you have left in this world. With both your parents gone, grandparents long dead, and no other siblings, Shua was really all you had. Even though he may not deserve your forgiveness, don’t you owe it to yourself to try and patch up your relationship? Even the thoughts sounded weak in your brain, after all he’s made you feel, but he really was all you had left. If you were going to move on from this, Seungcheol was right, you needed closure one way or another.
“Shua…” you trailed off, looking up at the ceiling attempting to stop the rush of tears stinging the backs of your eyes. You weren’t sure if you should tell him what happened over the last few days, since you last heard his voice. He was the reason you were in the hospital in the first place, but did you really want to make him feel the guilt for putting you there? You weren’t so sure. Your caring nature yelling at you internally to lie, to sugar coat things to spare your brother the pain. Before you could fight your internal battle, it was Joshua who spoke first. 
“Can we talk about this, a little more privately maybe?” He questioned, his sour tone catching Seungcheol’s attention. Seungcheol has tried to stay quiet through all of this, hoping to let you hash it out on your own. It wasn’t his place, after all. He didn’t know your brother, and he believed you could handle yourself. But he wasn’t about to leave you alone with Joshua, and he needed to make sure the other man knew that.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Seungcheol started, brow furrowed menacingly, folding his arms across his chest, “She is in my care, after all.” He really didn’t want to play that card, unsure of how you would feel about it, but he really, really, needed Joshua to know that he wasn’t going to budge. 
“What the hell do you mean she’s in ‘your care’?” Joshua narrowed his eyes, shooting a questioning glare your way.
You let out a heavy sigh, briefly turning your body to give Seungcheol an apologetic look. “I’ve been in the hospital, Shua. They only released me on the condition he stays with me, or vice versa.” Fuck it, maybe he deserved to feel guilty. 
“Wh-what do you mean you were in the hospital?” His previous distraught look coming back, “Why didn’t you call me? I’m your family I should be the one-”
You cut him off before he could finish that statement, “Taking care of me? Joshua, you left me at a hospital three years ago and haven’t so much as said ‘hello’ to me since then. What makes you think you have any right to even assume I would want you to care for me?” Joshua at least had the decency to look ashamed of himself for the first time tonight, gaze shifting down to the floor again.
“YN, I- I called that night, on Christmas Eve, to apologize,” he looked behind you at a glaring Seungcheol before looking back at your equally enraged face, “I know, I know! I definitely didn’t do that in the voicemail that I left, ok I know,” he put his hand up as if to pacify you, “I had been drinking and I was thinking about you - in fact I - I think about you all the time. I’ve just been a terrified asshole who was too afraid you’d reject my apology after so long. I had the courage that night and tried calling you a few times. When you didn’t answer I figured you hated me, and it set me off with how drunk I was. I- I’m s-so sorry YN, I never, ever meant to hurt you like this. I was so scared of losing you, I tried to distance myself from you, so if I did l-lose you, it wouldn’t hurt as bad as when we lost mom and dad.” Joshua was full on sobbing at this point.
Your eyes softened minutely at his words, the fire in your eyes fleeting, but still there. “You’re fucking right you’ve been an asshole Shua,” you scoffed, “did you ever think about what I needed? How I felt? You distancing yourself from me was like having my entire family ripped away from me. You were all I had left. You are all I have left.” Your last words were whispered, but your brother heard them loud and clear. 
Joshua's long legs only needed two steps in your direction before you were chest to chest with him, his strong arms wrapping around your shoulders. To say you were shocked was an understatement. Regardless of how much you wanted to hate your brother right now, you couldn’t deny that it felt nice to be in his familiar arms again. He hasn’t hugged you in years, not since your parents death, and you’re feeling lightheaded from all the physical contact you’ve had in the last week. It took you a moment to respond to his hug, slowly wrapping your weak arms around his middle. He could feel the way your too small frame was beginning to shake, presuming you were weak from being in the hospital, though he could feel how thin you were. It took him a second to realize you were sobbing in his arms, too.
Joshua nuzzled his face into the side of your head, having to bend a little to account for the height difference, and croaked, “I’m sorry YN. I’m so, so sorry. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but please, please let me be here for you. Let me be your shoulder to cry on, be the one you confide in again.” He sniffled, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. “I’ll stay by your side, I won't leave you, I promise.”
“I’ve missed you so much,” you blubbered out, soaking Joshua’s shirt with your tears. He ran a hand soothingly up and down your back as he let his own silent tears fall. 
“I’ve missed you too, baby sister.”
Seungcheol had been a silent observer, staying back, allowing you both to have the space you needed to sort this out. At this point, he wore a small smile, arms still crossed over one another. He decided it was time for him to leave you both alone for a moment to catch up and talk things through a little further. He quietly slipped out of the living room with a plan to make some hot tea for you, briefly meeting Joshua’s eyes which were silently thanking the older man. Seungcheol gave a quick nod and turned to walk away. 
-
You and your brother spent the next few hours talking about everything on your living room couches. He stayed close, but not too close, to give you your own space, which you appreciated. Seungcheol came back after a little while, hot tea in mugs in tow. He sat by your side, offering you silent support with a hand on your knee or shoulder. You were thankful for his presence. Even though you and Joshua had talked some things out, you still felt a little awkward with him here. It had been over three years since you’d seen him, to be fair.
You told Joshua about your job and how you haven’t left it yet, despite hating your boss for so long. You talked about your life in Busan and how you moved into a new apartment a couple years back. He told you about his firm in Seoul and how he’s been working on a new book. He was hopeful that one of his previous books was up for some kind of award. You expressed how proud you were of him, finally having the chance to tell him. He told you about how he and Yuna broke up last year, a mutual thing, to which you expressed your not quite sympathy. Most importantly, you talked about your brief stay at the rehab facility three years ago and your most recent stay in the hospital here. You both cried when you talked about your second attempt at your life. You hugged each other and Joshua apologized profusely to you, which you graciously accepted.
After you had spilled all your collective tears and put everything out on the table, Joshua turned his attention to the other man in the room, who up until this point, had been relatively quiet, only chiming in when asked a question. “Seungcheol?”
Seungcheol was taken by surprise at the sound of his name coming from Joshua’s mouth. Eyebrows raised, he looked at the ashy haired man sitting across from him, “Hmm?” 
“I wanted to thank you,” Joshua said apologetically, “I don’t know you, but you saved my sister. She also seems to trust you,” he gave you a quick smile, “so I guess I should, too. But really, man, thank you. I don’t know what I would do if I lost her, too.” His gaze fell to his hands that were clasped in his lap.
Seungcheol sat up a little straighter on the couch before answering, “You don’t have to thank me. I share the sentiment, I don’t know what I would do without her.” He smiled down at you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, making you give him a small smile in return. “I really love her,” he said lovingly. He was talking to Joshua, but he was staring into your eyes, getting lost in them for a moment. Joshua noticed this, and couldn’t hide the smile that was spreading across his own face. That’s when he knew you were in good hands. He trusted Seungcheol.
The next hour passed by quickly, sharing more stories amongst the three of you. Eventually Joshua told you he had to get going, needing to be back in Seoul for a meeting tomorrow morning. He offered to cancel and stay the night, but you and Seungcheol both told him he should go, and not to worry about you. If Seungcheol wasn’t here, Joshua would have definitely canceled, but he felt good about leaving you with him after the talks you’d had these past few hours. 
You wrapped your arms around your brother's neck, reaching up on your tiptoes. Joshuas arms wrapped around your middle, lifting you up slightly as he whispered in your ear, “I love you baby sister, please don’t forget that. I never stopped loving you.”
“I love you too Shua, don’t be a stranger.” You smiled up at your older brother. 
“I won't, trust me,” he let out a short laugh, devoid of any humor before setting you back down on your feet. He turned to look at Seungcheol, before reaching out to shake his hand. Seungcheol walked the short distance to grab his hand, only to be pulled into Joshua’s frame for a hug. “Thank you again, Seungcheol. I wish I could stay longer to get to know you a little better, but it was really nice to meet you.”
“I’m sure there will be more opportunities for us to meet,” Seungcheol said, with an almost demanding tone. Joshua took the warning for what it was, leaving you a little oblivious next to them. “Drive safe.”
Joshua pulled away, giving you one final smile, before turning around to take his leave. You stood in the doorway, watching your brother start his car and pull out of the driveway. You knew you had plenty more unresolved issues and a lot more to discuss, but for now, your chest felt lighter at the aspect of having your brother back in your life. You were a little sad that he had to leave so quickly, when you felt like you just got him back, but were hopeful you would see him soon. 
Seungcheol could feel your mood shift slightly, moving to wrap his arms around you from behind in a comforting back hug. You closed and locked the front door before turning around in his grasp. “I’m sorry,” you murmured into his chest. You didn’t see it, but Seungcheol looked down at you in confusion.
“Why are you sorry, love?” He inquired, rubbing a hand up and down your spine.
“I’m sorry you had to sit here all night and listen to me cry,” you began, “I’m also sorry you had to meet my brother under these circumstances.”
“Don’t be sorry, YN. I’m so happy you were able to see Joshua again and talk about things. I know it can be hard to talk about these things, and I know it must be hard to let him back into your life so suddenly, but I know it will be helpful to you in the long run. I only want you to be happy, love.”
You look up at Seungcheol in complete awe. How was this man in love with you? A broken shell of a person, with her weights worth of baggage. What did you do to deserve him? The literal epitome of perfection. A walking green flag. 
“Don’t thank me,” Seungcheol lightly scolded, a smile on his face. “I can practically hear your thoughts right now.”
You scoffed, mock offended, putting your hands on his chest to playfully pull away. He wasn’t having it though, and pulled you back into him, rocking you both back and forth gently. “Oh no you don’t, you’re mine tonight,” you know he meant it in a playful way, but it did things to you that you didn’t want to admit to yourself right now, “I told you I wanted to lay with you properly and I’ve been waiting way too long to finally do that.”
“Let’s go to bed then,” you began, taking Seungcheol’s hand in your, walking down the hallway towards your bedroom. 
“Sounds like a great plan,” Seungcheol smiled, following after you obediently. 
-
After you and Seungcheol both got changed (Seungcheol having to run home to grab some things, and also grab a very unamused cat), you kneeled in the corner of your room playing with Bear, who lay in his cat bed that Seungcheol also brought over. 
Seungcheol was laying back on your pink sheets, arms crossed behind his head, watching you in amusement. “He really likes you, you know.”
You looked over your shoulder with a toothy smile on your face. Seungcheol very nearly melted into your mattress at the sight. “You think so?” Seungcheol nodded as you turned back around to face the fur ball in front of you. “Well, I really like him too,” you cooed at the cat in question as he arched his back into your pets. After you had your fill of cuddles, you slowly stood up from your crouching position, causing Bear to mewl.
Seungcheol let out a loud laugh from his spot on your bed. “Yeah, I would say he definitely likes you.”
You laughed along with Seungcheol while turning the lamp on your side table off. Seungcheol scooted over on the bed to make room for you, pulling the pink and white comforter back. You gladly took your spot on the bed, rolling on your side to face Seungcheol. To say you were nervous was a big understatement. “I’m gonna miss him when I go back to Busan,” you whispered sadly, only slightly teasing. 
“I’m glad my cat made such a big impact on you,” Seungcheol said dryly, deadpanning in your direction.
You giggled quietly and shushed him. “Of course I’m gonna miss you too, Seungcheol. I thought that was a given.”
“I mean, it’s still nice to hear,” he gently smiled down at you before draping one arm over your side, placing his warm hand on your lower back. He nudged your back a little, signaling you to move closer, to which you obliged. “You know, you don’t have to go back,” Seungcheol whispered, hopefully. 
“Cheollie, I have to,” Seungcheol smiled his brightest smile at the nickname making you stifle a laugh, “my job is there, I have an apartment there. I can’t just leave.”
“Is this cabin paid off?” Seungcheol asked abruptly, before you could continue making excuses.
“Yes…” you trailed off hesitantly. 
“Then you could break your lease in Busan, and move to the cabin. I know you love your job, but there is an animal shelter here. It’s where I got Bear from,” the cat meowed softly in the corner, making you smile again, “I could put in a good word for you.”
Seungcheol was so thoughtful. I definitely don’t deserve this man, you thought to yourself. Seungcheol chuckled and raised his hand to brush a strand of hair over your shoulder. “Did I just say that outloud?” You asked, mortified for Seungcheol’s answer.
He just nodded, still giggling. “YN, you deserve the world, and I will work every day to make sure you believe that.” 
Your cheeks were hot, but your heart was full at his words. This beautiful man in front of you wanted to give you the world, wanted to make sure you never wanted for more in your life. Who were you to turn down such an offer? What did you have to lose anyways? A shitty paycheck and an even shitter apartment. That’s what.
“Okay.” You state simply.
“Okay?” Seungcheol perked up, lifting his head a bit to stare at you. It was dark, but there was enough moonlight shining through your window that you could see the way his eyes lit up at your words. You smiled a bright smile at him, nodding your head aggressively. “Do you mean that?” Now he was sporting a smile to match your own.
“Yes, Seungcheol. I’ll do it. I want to do it. I’m ready.” You smiled, because you were. You don’t think you’ve ever spoken truer words. You were ready. Ready to put Busan behind you, ready to start a new life with Seungcheol, with Bear, and finally make a home out of this cabin that your parents left you. 
“I love you, YN,” Seungcheol said seriously, searching your eyes for any bit of hesitance, to which he found none, “I mean it, love.” He looked down to your pink lips, and back up at your eyes. 
Your breath caught in your throat, the feeling of butterflies suffocating your lungs was a good one for once. You nibbled on your bottom lip and exhaled shakily. Seungcheol grunted, a sound you realized you found incredibly sexy and wanted to commit to memory for a rainy day. He was staring at you intensely, silently asking for permission, which you granted with a quick nod of your head.
Seungcheol’s lips crashed onto yours with an intensity you’ve never felt before. The flutter in your chest only increased as his soft, plump lips moved against yours. All you could feel, taste, smell, was Seungcheol. You inhaled his citrus-y scent, letting it surround you and he brought his free hand up to your burning cheek while his other caressed your side gently. He tasted better than you could have ever imagined, a little minty, and you were immediately hooked. His kiss was like the nicotine you craved from your cigarettes, maybe he was your new addiction. Your lips moved together synchronously for a few minutes before both of your lungs burned for oxygen and you reluctantly pulled away. 
Seungcheol held your face in his hands like fragile China, reveling in this moment here with you, your face illuminated by the moon shining through your window. He saw galaxies in your lust filled eyes, the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.
Quickly, he dipped his head back down to capture your lips with his again. This time he moved a bit more frantically, hand moving from your cheek to your neck and down your shoulder and arm. He kissed you like it was giving him life, exploring your body with his large hands. 
You kissed Seungcheol back just as fervently, lips parting to allow his soft tongue to explore your mouth. It was hot, more teeth than tongue, both of you far too excited at the prospect of finally getting to kiss one another after days of build up. 
Parting from your lips slightly, Seungcheol pulled back to speak, “Is this ok? I do-don’t want to take things too fast…” he trailed off, pecking your lips sweetly a few times while he waited for your answer. 
You shook your head slightly, kissing him back, “It’s not too fast, Cheol. I want you.”
That was all your boyfriend needed to hear before he was pushing you gently onto your back and rolling over to hover just slightly above you. Gently, ever so gently, he leaned down to kiss you passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and allowed his hands to explore under your sleep shirt. A soft moan escaped your lips when his warm hand grazed your breast, and Seungcheol took advantage of it to slip his tongue back into your mouth. 
Seungcheol gently caressed your breast in his hand, fingers flicking over your nipple every few seconds to make it peak. You soft breaths and noises emboldening him to dip down and nibble at your collarbones and throat. 
“Ch-Cheol,” you pant, getting lost in the sensation of his lips and hands all over you, “Please.”
“Please, what, love?” He murmured against your clavicle before pulling back and looking into your eyes again. “What is it, baby?” His voice was rough and it was turning you on even more. 
“Please touch me more, please,” You softly plead with him, arching your back into his touch when his hand trailed down your stomach, “please.”
Seungcheol smiled at you before pulling away a bit to pull your shirt up and over your head. As he tossed the fabric somewhere in your room he took a moment to admire your beautiful body in the moonlight shining through your window. “You’re so pretty, love.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but you heard him loud and clear, making you let out a soft whimper.
Your boyfriend chuckled at your reaction before dipping down to take one of your breasts into his warm mouth. Your hand flies up to his head, grasping the bleached strands as you arch into his touch. “Cheol!”
“Mm, let me hear you baby,” he grunts, pulling off you for a second before attacking your other breast with the same ministrations, his hand dipping lower to pull at your sleep shorts, making his intentions clear. You nod your head quickly, making him pull back again to look up at your blissed out face. “Is this ok?”
“Yes, yes, please, Cheol,” you all but moaned at this point, the thought of waiting any longer for the man above you to start touching you driving you insane. “Please, hurry, Cheollie.”
Seungcheol sat up on his knees, adjusting himself in his pajama pants, making you bite your lip to suppress a moan at just how big his bulge looked. He chuckled darkly at your reaction before grabbing onto your sleep shorts and removing them and your panties in one swift motion.
Once he tossed the shorts off to the side, he couldn’t help but admire your wet pussy on full display for him for the first time. You were completely bare beneath him and he was thanking every God he knew the name of in his head for allowing him this moment. You were absolutely breathtaking and he let you know just that. “You’re so fucking gorgeous, YN. I am so fucking lucky.”
Before you could respond, Seungcheol bent down and started kissing up your thighs until he reached the place you needed him most. Sighing in contentment, he placed a few sweet kisses to your mound before dipping his warm tongue between your folds. You both moan at the contact, you from the feeling of his wet tongue on your clit, and him from your taste. You tasted absolutely divine. He closed his eyes as he explored your folds with his tongue, lapping at your entrance before stiffening his tongue to play with your engorged clit. You were so turned on you couldn’t help the noises falling from your mouth. It was almost embarrassing how vocal you were being.
It’s been quite a while since you were in bed with anyone. In fact it’s been years. You had the wherewithal to let Seungcheol know that before you were completely lost in the pleasure of his mouth on your cunt.
“Cheol-Cheollie-” you panted out, tugging at his blonde locks to get him to look at you. “I- I haven’t been with anyone in… in a long time.” His eye soften a bit as he looks at you, intensely scanning your features for any kind of reluctance for what you two were doing. After finding none he places a few more kisses to your clit, making you moan softly, before hauling himself up and hovering over you. 
“We don’t have to go any farther tonight if you don’t want to. Just say the word. I’ll be happy to eat you out all night, make you cum on my face. Or we can stop here. You tell me what you’re comfortable with, love.” Seungcheol kisses your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on him before pulling away, awaiting your answer.
“I - I want this, I want you. I’m just… nervous I guess?” You laugh lightly, trying to mask your shyness.
Seungcheol doesn’t allow it, smiling down at you and pecking your forehead, then your nose. “I’ll make you feel good, I promise, baby. Don’t be nervous. I’m not expecting anything, just let me make you feel good, please?”
How could you deny this man anything when he was so perfect to you?
You nod your head briefly before leaning up and capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. It only lasts a moment before he’s breaking away and crawling back down your bed. 
“I’ll be gentle, ok?” Seungcheol says before diving back in and lapping at your wet folds. You moan at the feeling again, getting lost in the sensation of him basically making out with your pussy. Before you can lose youreself to the pleasure, Seungcheol brings a finger up to your entrance, tracing it lightly before dipping just the tip inside you, testing the waters. You moan out loudly at the sensation, hips bucking up slightly for more friction. He just chuckles against you before slipping his entire finger in, your warm walls clamping down on the intrusion. It’s been so long since you had something inside you, but the feeling was so intense, mixed with Seungcheol’s hot tongue on your clit, your orgasm washed over you suddenly before you could warn him.
Not that he needed the warning. He felt your body tense, so he kept his tongue right where it was, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. When you finally came down from it, he slipped his finger out, sticking it in his mouth as sucking your juices off it as he came back up to lay next to you.
As he did, Seungcheol trailed his hand back down your body, two fingers slipping inside you while you were still relaxed. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, his other hand coming up to rub soothing circles on your hip, “Shh, baby. Just let me make you feel good.” You moan at his words as he slowly, gently starts pumping his fingers inside of you. The motion feels so good, your previous orgasm making for and easy slide in and out. 
“Cheol!” You whine as his fingers curl and touch that spot inside you, making your toes curl.
“Mm, baby, that’s it. Just feel it, ok? Just relax.” His words were like a soothing balm, but you needed to anchor yourself, reaching out to grab hold of his shoulders. He takes it in stride, leaning slightly over you, his free hand still rubbing circles into your side as he stretches you out. 
“Cheol, Cheol, I’m gonna-” You pant out, not even able to finish your thought before your second orgasm is washing over you. Seungcheol just keeps pumping his fingers in and out of you, his fingertips gently prodding your walls each time. He never falters in his movements, letting you come down from the high before you’re weakly pushing at his arm in sensitivity. “S-sensitive, Cheollie,” you mumble, making Seungcheol laugh quietly.
“I know, baby. You did so well for me.” He gently kisses your lips again, smiling against them. You look up at him when he pulls away with so much love in your eyes he nearly melts. “Feel good, love?” You nod, words escaping you from the pure ecstasy you feel in that moment. “Good.”
With one last kiss, Seungcheol makes a move to get up, but you stop him, tugging on his hand. He looks back at you with a furrowed brow, confusion written all over his face like he didn’t have a raging boner in his pants.
“I want you, Cheol. Please?” You ask him in a tiny voice. He looks at you for a moment, taking in your blissed out face, before starting to shake his head. The crestfallen look on your face has him stopping, though.
“I want you too, YN. I really, really do,” as if to prove a point he takes your hand and moves it to his crotch, letting you feel his hardness. “Trust me, baby. But you just got out of the hospital, are you sure you’re up for it?”
You think about it for a moment. Seungcheol is right, you did just get out of the hospital. You also have had a very emotional few days, weeks even. But you couldn’t deny how safe you felt in this moment with Seungcheol. Wasn’t sex just another way to feel closer to him? To solidify this bond that you two were building? Hell, you just agreed to quit your job and move here to be closer to him. You loved this man, more than you were willing to admit right now.
“Please. You’ll be gentle, right?” You whispered into the stillness of your childhood bedroom.
Seungcheol smiled sweetly at you with so much love in his eyes it made you want to cry. “Of course, YN,” he whispered back. “I’ll always be gentle with you, you mean the world to me.”
With that, Seungcheol leaned back down, shucking his shirt off in the process and pressing his warm chest to yours. No more words were shared as you lazily made out, both your guys’ hands exploring the others’ body. Slowly, you slipped Seungcheol’s pajama pants and boxer briefs off, letting them fall somewhere on the floor, and allowed your hands to explore even lower. 
Your hand found his length, slowly pumping him as he moaned into your mouth. He froze for a moment, forehead dropping to your collarbones as he sucked in a sharp breath, “I’m gonna cum quick if you do that.” You smiled, but slowed your ministrations, not wanting this to be over yet. He let out a shaky breath before looking down at you again, “Condoms?”
Your mind blanks for a second before shaking your head nervously. “I’m actually on birth control… and I haven’t been with anyone in over five years.” You said the last part quietly, almost embarrassed at your lack of experience. 
Seungcheol just smiled at you before kissing you slowly. When he pulled back he swallowed thickly before whispering, “I haven’t been with anyone in over three… please don’t worry, YN.”
Hearing him say that did actually soothe your worries a bit. It’s been a while since either of you had any practice in the bedroom, so maybe this didn’t have to be so scary. “Then…” you started, trailing off while looking into your boyfriend’s deep brown eyes, “we don’t need a condom.” Your whispered words made Seungcheol’s knees weak as he captured your lips with his again.
“Fuck, I don’t know how long I’m gonna last inside you,” he admitted bashfully, “where should I…?”
“Inside me. Please, Cheol, I want it. Want to feel close to you.”
Seungcheol closed his eyes as he sucked in another breath. “Fuck,” he said shakily, “I need to be inside you like right now.”
You chuckle and nod your head quickly, “Please.”
Seungcheol complies and grabs his length, stroking himself a few times before gathering your wetness on his tip. You both groan at the contact, your hips bucking up slightly, chasing the feeling. Without anymore words, Seungcheol pushes his tip against your entrance, slowly, so slowly, pushing in until he’s fully seated inside you, cock throbbing at the feeling of your tight walls.
“You’re so tight, baby. Does it hurt?” The genuine concern in his voice makes your heart flutter. You moan at the feeling of him adjusting himself on the bed. 
“N-no, not really. Just.. a lot. You-you’re big.” You moan again as he chuckles softly, the motion pushing his cock against your walls. 
“I’m not gonna move yet. Just get used to the feeling, ok baby?” You nod, eyes closing as you do just that. You focus on the feeling of his cock filling you up, your walls squeezing him slightly, making him groan each time. As you start to get used to the feeling of being full again, he slowly brings his fingers down to toy with your clit, your wetness making the slip feel heavenly.
Seungcheol is slowly, every so slowly, moving his fingertip over your puffy clit, distracting you from the pain of his cock splitting you open. It feels so good, and almost completely makes you forget about the pain. 
“Do you think you can come on my cock?” He asks quietly, fingers still moving slowly over you, “It might make it easier. I know it’ll feel good, love.” His face is right next to your ear and his low, raspy voice is bringing you close to the edge.
“Yes, yes, Cheol, please” you’re begging at this point, loving the feeling of his cock and his fingers bringing you to climax for the third time tonight.
“Let go, sweet girl, cum on my cock.” He whispers directly into your ear and that’s all you need to completely let go. Seungcheol keeps rubbing his fingers lightly over your clit as your body arches and convulses, clamping down on his dick, whispering soothing words into your ear until you finally come down from your high. Seungcheol pulls his fingers away to moment your orgasm slows, kissing you sweetly. “There you go, baby.” He’s starting to sound affected, like he is having a hard time holding back, so you circle your hips a bit to give him some much needed friction, making you both moan in pleasure. “Mm, baby, don’t do that.. I don’t know how much longer I can stay still.”
“Please move Cheollie,” you whisper, rolling your hips again, “fuck me.”
Seungcheol lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding before slowing pulling back until just his tip is inside you, before rolling his hips back down and sinking his length into you again. There are tears of pleasure rolling down your cheeks as he continues to fuck you in a steady rythym, hitting spots deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed. 
“Fuck, fuck baby, I’m gonna cum soon,” Seungcheol moans into your ear, lips sucking and kissing you neck and shoulder as he fucks you. “Gonna let me fill you up, baby?”
“Yes, yes, Cheol!” You can’t help the sounds that are coming out of your mouth at this point, lost in the pleasure Seungcheol is bringing you.
Seungcheol’s hips stutter for a moment, stilling against you as he cums harder than he thinks he ever has in his life. He’s essentially been edging himself since you two started this almost an hour ago, and finally getting to cum in your tight pussy has him releasing everything he’s go into you. He thrusts his hips once, twice, three more times before stilling and letting the last of his seed spurt inside you.
You’re both panting and sweating at this point, but neither of you care, sharing wet kisses as you both come down from the intense highs. Once you’re both settled a bit, Seungcheol slowly pulls back, softening cock slipping from your entrance. He watches his cum drip out of you for a moment before bringing two fingers up to push it back inside you, accidentally brushing your sensitive clit in the process and making you jolt. 
“Shh, sorry, sorry baby. It’s just so fucking hot seeing you like this,” He mumbles, fingering you gently, watching your face for any sign of discomfort. When he finds none, and instead sees you close your eyes in pleasure again, he keeps going, slowly, gently, pumping two fingers inside you, searching for that spot again. You’re moaning lowly, getting lost in the feeling of his hot cum inside you, “You like that, baby?” He practically growls, watching his creamy cum be forced out of you as he massages his fingertips on your g-spot. 
You can’t form a coherent sentences, just moaning and writhing on the bed. Seungcheol continues to abuse your walls until you cum for the fourth time tonight, mouth open in a silent scream as he watches you lose yourself to the pleasure. As you slowly come down, he pulls his finger from you finally, grabbing his discarded pants to wipe his hand on.
“You ok, love?” He asked quietly as you slowly come back to yourself. 
“Yes, yeah. I’m good.” You pant out, making Seungcheol smile to himself.
“Let me grab something to clean you up, ok?” You nod as he leaves the bedroom, only to come back a few moments later with a warm wash cloth. He slowly and gently cleans you up, making sure to avoid your swollen clit this time. When he’s done he places a gentle kiss to your folds, making you giggle. 
“YN,” he says quietly when he finally climbs back up the bed, pulling you into his strong arms.
You look up at him, humming in confirmation for him to continue. Your sleepy eyes starting to close as you stare at him.
“Thank you, YN,” Seungcheol whispered breathlessly, mere centimeters from your lips.
“For what?” You asked, just as breathless.
“For giving me one more day.”
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a/n: if you made it to the end, thank you thank you thank you for reading my fic, it means so much to me. pls reblog, comment, and like if you enjoyed reading and let me know what you would like to see next. i enjoy writing, but seeing how much YOU enjoy it is an even better feeling!
copyright aliendes 2024
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jabybarjo · 4 months ago
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The ends of the Marshals
We know a lot about our marshals of empires, but for some their existence ends in 1814, I did some research and I did all the dates of death of the 26 marshals of the empire with their age of death and some information that I had, do not hesitate to say other information if you have any, when we look closely Lannes was the first to die and at a young age while the one who spent the most time on earth is Moncey who lived until 87 years old, yet it is Marmont who will be the last to die in 1852, I hope that this will be useful for some.
Shot:
-Murat, October 13, 1815 (trying to recover his former kingdom of Naples …) at 48 years old
-Ney, December 7, 1815 (judged as a traitor for having joined Napoleon in 1815) at 46 years old
Defenestrate: (throw at a window)
-Berthier, June 1, 1815 (suicide or murder?) at age 61
Killed in combat:
-Lannes, May 31, 1809, wounded in the leg, dies of his wounds, at age 40
-Bessières, May 1, 1813, wounded by a cannon (no chance of survival) at age 44
-Poniatowski, October 19, 1813, drowned during the battle of Liepzig, at age 50
assassinated:
-Brune, August 2, 1815 (victim of the white terror of 1815) at age 52
-Mortier, July 28, 1835 (killed in an attack) at age 67
illness:
-Davout, June 1, 1823 (probably of tuberculosis) at age 53
-Augereau, June 12, 1816, at age 58
-Masséna, April 4, 1817 (long-term ill) at age 58
-Gouvion Saint-Cyr, March 17, 1830 (stroke) at age 65
natural causes, old age: (Here it is mainly deaths from natural causes)
-Perignon, December 25, 1818, at age 64
-Serurier, December 21, 1819, at age 77
-Lefebvre, September 4, 1820, at age 64
-Kellermann, September 14, 1820, at age 85
-Suchet, January 3, 1826, at age 55
-Jourdan, November 23, 1833, at age 71
-MacDonald, September 25, 1840, at age 74
-Victor, March 1, 1841, at age 76
-Moncey, April 20 1842, at age 87
-Bernadotte, March 8, 1844 (died of a paralytic attack at age 81)
-Grouchy, May 29, 1847, at age 80
-Oudinot, September 13, 1847, at age 80
-Soult, November 26, 1851, at age 82
-Marmont, March 2, 1852, at age 77
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mad-salesman · 2 months ago
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Old Troubles Character Profile: Ayna (The Lamb)
Art by: @parememi
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Biological age: 28
Actual age: 125
Height: 5' 5" (165 cm)
Weight: 140 lbs (64 kg)
Pronouns: they/she/them/her
Vocal style: Alto, mild midwest US accent
Favorite weapon(s): saber, falchion, dao
Ayna (name comes from the Kazakh word for "mirror") was born in a small village on the northern coast of the Lands of the Old Faith. The purging of the sheep began when they were 17. Ayna fled from one place to another, first with their family, and later alone after each was slain, for over a decade. From them, the last lamb would inherit a passion for brewing (and drinking), a skill at finding the right person for a job, and a certain talent for snippy sarcasm.
Finally cornered and executed somewhere in Anura, the lamb readily accepted Narinder's offer. Driven by grief and a thirst for vengeance, they threw everything into building the cult under Ratau's tutelage. Ayna spent the first decade recruiting followers and expanding the cult grounds between short crusades to attack Leshy's cult, remaining a small but persistent thorn in his side.
Sometime in the second decade, Ayna started being plagued by the voices of other sheep, friends and family killed in the purge. These voices drove them to seek vengeance, and would be a constant presence for the rest of the century, stopping only for short periods after the lamb killed a Bishop and their cultists. Ayna's father had been a master brewer, a skill they'd apprenticed in before his death, and the lamb started looking for a way to make alcohol strong enough for a god's Vessel.
After their first success in getting drunk in the cult's 21st year, Ayna met Brean, a badger they charged with being the one member of the cult who would treat them as a normal mortal at all times. Brean would later become their chief advisor and the first member of the cult's senior council.
The lamb finally killed Leshy in year 27, and experienced the first long period without voices driving them on. Two seasons passed before they started again, and while alcohol could tamp down grief, it could not stop the drive for revenge. Over time, drinking and killing became addictions for Ayna, neither of which they could do without for long.
After Heket's defeat in year 48, with the cult well established, Ayna founded the senior council, a group of nine cultists with particular skill sets responsible for managing other cultists and reporting back to the lamb. While Ayna could readily override any of their decisions, they much preferred not to, and started holding council meetings twice a season to keep things running smoothly.
With the weight of the cult's operations removed from their shoulders, Ayna set to eradicating the cults of the last two Bishops. Even with more time to focus on combat, Kallamar and Shamura proved to be more capable enemies. The cult of pestilence fell in year 72, and they finally claimed Shamura's head in spring of year 97.
Narinder's request for their sacrifice and their destruction of the old god of death was something the lamb could stomach. However, after his resurrection, Narinder's total change in behavior and demeanor has Ayna spiraling and wondering how to move forward. The Bishops are dead, but the voices are still screaming for vengeance.
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chinesehanfu · 1 year ago
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[Hanfu · 漢服]The relationship between women in history is not just love rivals,
“but also thousands of years later, everyone knows that it is me and you.”
Let's get to know about them/她们 in China history.
1.【Han Dynasty】:Princess Jieyou (解忧公主) & Feng Liao (馮嫽)
Princess Jieyou (Chinese: 解忧公主; 121 BC – 49 BC), born Liu Jieyou (Chinese: 刘解忧), was a Chinese princess sent to marry the leader of the Wusun kingdom as part of the Western Han Chinese policy of heqin(和亲).
As the granddaughter of the disgraced Prince Liu Wu (劉戊) who had taken part in the disastrous Rebellion of the Seven States,her status was low enough that she was sent to replace Princess Liu Xijun (劉細君) after her untimely death and marry the Wusun king Cunzhou (岑陬).
Jieyou lived among the Wusun for fifty years and did much work to foster relations between the surrounding kingdoms and the Han. She was particularly reliant upon her attendant, Feng Liao, whom she dispatched as an emissary to Wusun kingdoms and even to the Han Court. She faced opposition from pro-Xiongnu members of the Wusun royalty, particularly Wengguimi’s Xiongnu wife. When word came that the Xiongnu planned to attack Wusun, she convinced her husband to send for aid from the Han Emperor. Emperor Wu of Han sent 150,000 cavalrymen to support the Wusun forces and drive back the Xiongnu.
In 51 BCE at the age of 70, Jieyou asked to be allowed to retire and return to the Han. Emperor Xuan of Han agreed and had her escorted back to Chang'an where she was welcomed with honor. She was given a grand palace with servants usually reserved for princesses of the imperial family. In 49 BCE, Jieyou died peacefully.
Feng Liao (馮嫽)
Feng Liao (馮嫽) was China's first official female diplomat,[citation needed] who represented the Han dynasty to Wusun (烏孫), which was in the Western Regions. It was a practice for the Imperial Court to foster alliances with the northern tribes via marriage, and two Han princesses had married Wusun kings.
Feng Liao was the maidservant of Princess Jieyou (解憂公主), who was married off to a Wusun king. Feng herself later married an influential Wusun general, whose good standing with Prince Wujiutu (烏就屠) of the kingdom later proved beneficial to the Han dynasty.
When Prince Wujiutu seized the throne of Wusun in 64 BC, after his father died, there was fear in the Imperial Court of Han that Wujiutu, whose mother was Xiongnu, would allow Wusun to become Xiongnu's vassal.
Zheng Ji, Governor of the Western Regions, recalled that Feng Liao had married into Wusun and with her familiarity of the Wusun customs, she was a prime candidate to persuade Wujiutu to ally his kingdom with Han. Wujiutu acceded and Emperor Xuan of Han (漢宣帝) sent for Feng. He praised her for her judgement and diplomacy, and appointed her as the official envoy to Wusun.
Wujiutu was conferred the title "Little King of Wusun" while his brother, the son by a Han princess, was named "Great King of Wusun". Wusun was divided between the two kings and tensions in that region were eased.
※Xiongnu: Xiongnu: A nomadic tribe that has occupied northern China for a long time. Later it gradually became a state. It harassed the borders of the Han Dynasty for a long time and robbed supplies.
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With their efforts, the Wusun Kingdom gradually tended to support the Han Dynasty, and the Xiongnu's defeat in China also began.
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2.【Tang Dynasty】:Shangguan Wan'er(上官婉儿)&Princess Taiping (太平公主)
Shangguan Wan'er/上官婉儿 (664 – 21 July 710) was a Chinese politician, poet, and imperial consort of the Wu Zhou and Tang dynasties. Described as a "female prime minister,"Shangguan rose from modest origins as a palace servant to become secretary and leading advisor to Empress Wu Zetian of Zhou. Under Empress Wu, Shangguan exercised responsibility for drafting imperial edicts and earned approbation for her writing style. She retained her influence as consort to Wu's son and successor, Emperor Zhongzong of Tang, holding the imperial consort rank of Zhaorong (昭容). Shangguan was also highly esteemed for her talent as a poet.Shangguan was also highly esteemed for her talent as a poet. In 710, after Emperor Zhongzong's death, Shangguan was killed during a palace coup that ended the regency of Empress Dowager Wei.
Princess Taiping (太平公主)lit. "Princess of Great Peace", personal name unknown, possibly Li Lingyue (李令月) (after 662 – 2 August 713) was a royal princess and prominent political figure of the Tang dynasty and her mother Wu Zetian's Zhou dynasty. She was the youngest daughter of Wu Zetian and Emperor Gaozong and was influential during the reigns of her mother and her elder brothers Emperor Zhongzong and Emperor Ruizong (both of whom reigned twice), particularly during Emperor Ruizong's second reign, when for three years until her death, she was the real power behind the throne.
She is the most famous and influential princess of the Tang dynasty and possibly in the whole history of China thanks to her power, ability and ambition. She was involved in political difficulties and developments during the reigns of her mother and brothers. Indeed, after the coup against Empress Dowager Wei, she became the real ruler of Tang. During the reign of Emperor Ruizong, she was not restricted by anything, the emperor issued rulings based on her views and the courtiers and the military flattered her and majority from every civil and military class joined her faction, so her power exceeded that of the emperor.
Eventually, however, a rivalry developed between her and her nephew, Emperor Ruizong's son, Crown Prince Li Longji. Both of them were hostile in power-sharing and they fought for the monopoly over power. After Emperor Ruizong yielded the throne to Li Longji (as Emperor Xuanzong) in 712, the conflict came to the political forefront, and openly, the court became a manifestation of conspiracy rather than the administration of the empire; in 713, Emperor Xuanzong, according to historical records, believing that she was planning to overthrow him, acted first, executing a large number of her powerful allies and forcing her to commit suicide.
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The relationship between Shangguan Wan'er and Princess Taiping has always been written as "enemies" in official history, but with the phrase "千年万岁,椒花颂声", their friendship that has been buried for thousands of years was revealed.
The"千年万岁,椒花颂声" sentence comes from the epitaph written by Princess Taiping for Shangguan Wan'er. The original text is: "潇湘水断,宛委山倾,珠沉圆折,玉碎连城。甫瞻松槚,静听坟茔,千年万岁,椒花颂声”
Translation: Now that you are far away, the sky and the earth will lose their color. I'm afraid that all I can do in the future is to sit and look at the tea tree in front of your tomb. Maybe I can hear your voice again when I stand within an inch of the tomb. But this is a delusion after all, a quiet tomb, no beautiful face, a empty place of death. I hope that in a thousand or ten thousand years, there will still be people like me who remember you.
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3.【Late Qing Dynasty】:Lü Bicheng(呂碧城) & Qiu Jin (秋瑾)
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Lü Bicheng(呂碧城)also known as Alice Pichen Lee(1883–1943) was a Chinese writer, activist, newspaper editor, poet and school founder. She has been mentioned as one of the top four women in literature from the early Republic of China.
When she was four, her father retired to Lu'an, Anhui. She lived a life of comfort until the age of 12, when her father died in 1895. Because Lü Fengqi had no male heir, relatives of the Lü lineage contested for his inheritance, and Yan Shiyu and her four daughters were forced to move to Lai'an County to live with her natal family. When she was nine, Lü Bicheng was betrothed to a Wang family, but as her own family fortune declined, the Wang family broke off the marriage contract, giving the young Bicheng the stigma of a "rejected woman". The resulting emotional scar is often considered a major factor in her later decision to never marry.[8] Her widowed mother and the Lü girls were not well treated at the Yan family in rural Anhui. When Lü was 15 or 16, Yan Shiyu sent her to live with her maternal uncle Yan Langxuan (嚴朗軒), who was the salt administrator in Tanggu, the port city outside the northern metropolis of Tianjin. Her sister Huiru also joined her later.
During her stay in Tanggu, Qing China went through the tumultuous period of the failed Hundred Days' Reform of 1898, which brought about increasing awareness of women's education, and the Boxer Rebellion of 1900. In 1904, Mrs. Fang, the wife of her uncle's secretary, invited Lü Bicheng to visit a girls' school in Tianjin, but her uncle prevented her from going and severely reprimanded her. The next day, she ran away from her uncle's home, and took the train to Tianjin with no money or luggage. She wrote a letter to Mrs. Fang, who was staying at the dormitory of the Ta Kung Pao newspaper. Ying Lianzhi, the Catholic Manchu nobleman who founded the newspaper, read the letter and was so impressed by it that he made her an assistant editor. Lü Bicheng wrote a "progressive" ci that she had previously written, set to "A River Full of Red" ("Manjianghong") usually used to express heroic emotions. Ying transcribed the whole song in her diary and published it in L'impartial two days later. At the time, it was sensational for a woman to write for an influential national newspaper such as Ta Kung Pao. She was 21 years old. She used Ta Kung Pao to promote feminism and became a well-known figure.
Lü's ci poetry was published in the newspaper and it was very well received. She was the chief editor of the newspaper from 1904 to 1908. In 1904 she decided to improve education for girls. She had published her thoughts on women's rights and the general editor of the newspaper introduced her to Yan Fu who was an advocate for Western ideas. The Beiyang Women's Normal School was established that same year. At 23 Lü took on the job of principal of the school she had founded two years before. At first this school found it difficult to find girls who qualified for secondary education and students were brought in from Shanghai to make up the numbers.
Lü knew the revolutionary Qiu Jin and they had similar objectives but Lü did not join her in Japan when she was invited as she was unsure whether women should meddle in politics. She was then chosen to be secretary to Yuan Shikai, one of the most powerful people in China. When he set out to declare himself emperor of China she left, like many of his followers, and abandoned him.
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Qiu Jin (秋瑾)8 November 1875 – 15 July 1907,was a Chinese revolutionary, feminist, and writer.Her sobriquet name is Jianhu Nüxia (Chinese: 鑑湖女俠 lit. 'Woman Knight of Mirror Lake').
Qiu was born into a wealthy family. Her grandfather worked in the Xiamen city government and was responsible for the city's defense. Zhejiang province was famous for female education, and Qiu Jin had support from her family when she was young to pursue her educational interests. Her father, Qiu Shounan, was a government official and her mother came from a distinguished literati-official family. Qiu Jin's wealthy and educated background, along with her early exposure to political ideologies were key factors in her transformation to becoming a female pioneer for the woman's liberation movement and the republican revolution in China.
In the early 1900s, Japan had started to experience western influences earlier than China. As to not fall behind, the Qing government sent many elites to learn from the Japanese. Qiu Jin was one of these elites that got the chance to study overseas. After studying in a women's school in Japan, Qiu returned to China to participate in a variety of revolutionary activities; and through her involvement with these activities, it became clear how Qiu wanted others to perceive her. Qiu called herself 'Female Knight-Errant of Jian Lake' — the role of the knight-errant, established in the Han dynasty, was a prototypically male figure known for swordsmanship, bravery, faithfulness, and self-sacrifice — and 'Vying for Heroism'
Qiu Jin had her feet bound and began writing poetry at an early age. With the support from her family, Qiu Jin also learned how to ride a horse, use a sword, and drink wine—activities that usually only men were permitted to learn at the time.In 1896 Qiu Jin got married. At the time she was only 21, which was considered late for a woman of that time. Qiu Jin's father arranged her marriage to Wang Tingchun, the youngest son of a wealthy merchant in Hunan province. Qiu Jin did not get along well with her husband, as her husband only cared about enjoying himself.While in an unhappy marriage, Qiu came into contact with new ideas. The failure of her marriage affected her decisions later on, including choosing to study in Japan.
While still in Tokyo, Qiu single-handedly edited a journal, Vernacular Journal (Baihua Bao). A number of issues were published using vernacular Chinese as a medium of revolutionary propaganda. In one issue, Qiu wrote A Respectful Proclamation to China's 200 Million Women Comrades, a manifesto within which she lamented the problems caused by bound feet and oppressive marriages. Having suffered from both ordeals herself, Qiu explained her experience in the manifesto and received an overwhelmingly sympathetic response from her readers. Also outlined in the manifesto was Qiu's belief that a better future for women lay under a Western-type government instead of the Qing government that was in power at the time. She joined forces with her cousin Xu Xilin and together they worked to unite many secret revolutionary societies to work together for the overthrow of the Qing dynasty.
Between 1905 and 1907, Qiu Jin was also writing a novel called Stones of the Jingwei Bird in traditional ballad form, a type of literature often composed by women for women audiences. The novel describes the relationship between five wealthy women who decide to flee their families and the arranged marriages awaiting them in order to study and join revolutionary activities in Tokyo. Titles for the later uncompleted chapters suggest that the women will go on to talk about “education, manufacturing, military activities, speechmaking, and direct political action, eventually overthrowing the Qing dynasty and establishing a republic” — all of which were subject matters that Qiu either participated in or advocated for.
Life after returning to China
Qiu Jin was known as an eloquent orator who spoke out for women's rights, such as the freedom to marry, freedom of education, and abolishment of the practice of foot binding. In 1906 she founded China Women's News (Zhongguo nü bao), a radical women's journal with another female poet, Xu Zihua in Shanghai. They published only two issues before it was closed by the authorities. In 1907, she became head of the Datong school in Shaoxing, ostensibly a school for sport teachers, but really intended for the military training of revolutionaries[citation needed]. While teaching in Datong school, she kept secret connection with local underground organization—The Restoration Society. This organization aimed to overthrow the Manchu government and restore Chinese rule.
Death
In 1907, Xu Xilin, Qiu’s friend and the Datong school’s co-founder was executed for attempting to assassinate his Manchu superior. In the same year, the authorities arrested Qiu at the school for girls where she was the principal. She was tortured but refused to admit her involvement in the plot. Instead the authorities used her own writings as incrimination against her and, a few days later, she was publicly beheaded in her home village, Shanyin, at the age of 31. Her last written words, her death poem, uses the literal meaning of her name, Autumn Gem, to lament of the failed revolution that she would never see take place:
秋風秋雨愁煞人 (Autumn wind, autumn rain — they make one die of sorrow)
After Qiu Jin was killed, no one dared to collect her body. Lu Bicheng endured her grief and took great risks to bury her friend. The guarding Qing army learned that the woman who came to collect the corpse was Lu Bicheng, who was famous in China, and they had no choice but to do anything.
Qiu Jin's death caused Lu Bicheng to lose a rare confidant in life. She wrote many poems in memory of Qiu Jin, recalling this like-minded friend.
Later, Lü Bicheng wrote "The Biography of the Revolutionary Heroine Qiu Jin" in English, which was published in newspapers in New York, Chicago and other places in the United States. It caused a great response and not only made many people in the world know about Qiu Jin's legendary story, but also published it in newspapers in New York and Chicago. It also makes people understand the darkness and corrupt social status quo of the Qing Dynasty. Lu Bicheng used a pen of her own to record her friendship with Qiu Jin, and also fulfilled her promise to Qiu Jin to respond with the "battle of words"
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innerchorus · 2 months ago
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are there differences between shapul and esfan? theyre the same character to me.
It took me a while to figure out how I wanted to respond to this mainly because it sounds like something my partner would say to antagonise me but let me give it my best shot.
I do think there are some differences between them (and I will of course mention those in this post) but I think it's more interesting to answer this question by looking at why these two characters are so alike, and specifically why the fact that they are so alike doesn't mean they are merely cardboard cutouts of each other and is vital to understanding them as characters.
First, while Shapur created a strong impression and is an important character to myself and many others, it's worth noting that he appears in relatively few scenes in the manga. That's enough to glean some info about what he's like as a character, but we don't get to spend as much time with him as we do with the main cast. Maybe that's part of why you feel this way.
We do, however, get to see a bit more of his younger brother, Isfan.
When you say that Shapur and Isfan are so alike they seem the same to you, my first response is pretty much "well, what did you expect, given the circumstances?". It's clear from the outset that Isfan wishes to follow in his brother's footsteps.
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Here he is in Chapter 59, freshly arrived in Peshawar.
Straight away we learn he wants to avenge his brother's death and offer his service to Prince Arslan in his brother's stead.
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From Chapter 64, right before his fight with Gieve.
Here we learn that not only did Shapur save Isfan, he actually taught him. The novels even mention that 'while his brother served as a military general in the royal capital, Isfan became an agent of the royal capital and stayed in his hometown to guard it,' so even before we meet him in the manga, Isfan was stepping into a role that had previously been occupied by his brother, a role that Shapur had trained him for.
It's very clear that Isfan looks up to his brother, idealises him and aspires to be the kind of person he was, not just in a military sense but also sharing his morals, viewing loyalty to one's country and protecting the weak as far more important than riches (as stated in Book 12 of the novels, this is something Shapur said that Isfan adheres to as well). Is it such a surprise that after being so closely taught by Shapur and clearly modelling himself on him, Isfan seems so like his older brother?
That's really why I think saying they're 'the same character' feels reductive, because the reasons why they are so similar tell you so much about them.
And despite Shapur appearing in only a few scenes before his death, the same thing works in reverse. When we meet Isfan, we also learn more about Shapur. I don't think there's any need to list it all as that's not really what your question was aimed at, but I hope you understand my point.
The two brothers do seem to share character traits (they can be hotheaded/rash, as seen with Isfan's fight against Gieve, him rushing hastily to attack Chassum Fortress, and in Shapur throwing down his helmet at Atropatene after learning the king had fled, and particularly in his rescue of Isfan where he rushed alone into the snowy mountains to save him) but again, they're related, sharing the same father. So it's not really a surprise. This does, however, also highlight a difference between them, one that comes down to age and experience.
When we meet Shapur, he's in his mid 30s, and a Marzban, one of the highest military positions possible in Pars.
When we meet Isfan, he's around 20, and although he's clearly got some combat experience he's not at his brother's level just yet. And while they share some traits like I outlined above, while Shapur likely had the age and experience to moderate his reactions a little bit (see how he backtracks after his initial outburst at Atropatene, and defers his conflict with Kubard for another day which never comes), Isfan doesn't, and on certain occasions (like rushing ahead at Chassum) his inexperience shows.
I also want to cover character design, because I think it's a deliberate choice by Arakawa to have there be some resemblance between the two but not have them appear totally identical. One, it highlights that Isfan has a different mother (the manga appears to give him her lighter hair colour), and two, I think it indicates that Isfan isn't just Shapur v2, he's not meant to be just a carbon copy of his brother. Maybe that's also why we haven't seen Isfan wield a spear, Shapur's weapon of choice.
That those visual differences highlight the difference in their birth circumstances feels important. Shapur was born into high status as his family's heir. Isfan was born to a enslaved mother and if not for Shapur's actions his father would have allowed him to die simply to pacify his wife. While Isfan now occupies the same privileged position that his brother grew up in, it could easily have been different.
Those circumstances (Isfan and his mother's abandonment in the mountains) also lead to a distinct difference between the two, which is fighting style. Okay, we don't see much of Shapur in combat but he's clearly a classically trained Parsian warrior. This is likely the nature of the training he gave Isfan, too. But Isfan has an element that is unique to him, something that wasn't influenced by his brother but relates to wolves.
In his fight with Gieve, Tanaka describes Isfan's movements as 'wolf-like' and in both the novel scene and Arakawa's manga adaptation, Gieve is surprised by Isfan's movements (specifically the kick seen below) which depart from orthodox swordsmanship with the unpredictability of the wild.
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I don't think we would've seen Shapur pull a move like that!
Yes, I know it makes no sense for Isfan to have these wolf-like traits when the actual contact he had with them was very limited, but I'll forgive Tanaka this conceit because it's fucking cool okay?
Anyway I hope this satisfactorily answers the question. I'm aware I am very (very) into these two characters and not everyone will be as interested in them as I am, but I hope some of the the points in this post were of interest. Hopefully I didn't forget anything, I didn't get a chance to proofread!
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covid-safer-hotties · 5 months ago
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Since older adults have been more severely affected by acute COVID-19, researchers have hypothesized that older adults may have worse long COVID symptoms as well. But according to new research published in the Annals of Neurology, an official journal of the American Neurological Association, Northwestern Medicine researchers found on an average of 10 months after COVID-19 onset, younger (ages 18-44) and middle-aged (ages 45-64) adults had worse neurologic symptoms of long COVID than adults 65 and older. Symptoms included headache, numbness and tingling, problems with smell and taste, blurred vision, depression, anxiety, insomnia, fatigue and a decrease in cognitive function. These symptoms occurred regardless of if the patient had mild or severe COVID-19 infections.
“While deaths from COVID-19 continue to decrease, people still get repetitive infections with the virus and may develop long COVID along the way,” said Igor Koralnik, MD, chief of neuroinfectious diseases and global neurology at Northwestern Medicine, who oversees the Neuro COVID-19 Clinic and is the co-director of the Northwestern Medicine Comprehensive COVID-19 Center. “Long COVID is causing an alteration in patients’ quality of life. Despite vaccinations and boosters, about 30 percent of COVID patients develop some long COVID symptoms. These findings have an immense public health impact, given that long COVID significantly contributes to the leading global burden of disability and disease caused by the neurological disorders.”
STUDY HIGHLIGHTS
· The study included the first 1,300 patients at the Northwestern Medicine Neuro COVID-19 Clinic with neurologic long COVID symptoms between May 2020 and March 2023.
· Among those patients, 200 had been previously hospitalized for severe COVID-19 pneumonia while the rest had mild initial COVID-19 symptoms and never required hospitalization.
· The study is a first-of-its-kind to look at the neurologic symptoms of long COVID over an adult lifespan.
· The goal was to determine if the neurologic symptoms of long COVID affect adults differently based on their age group.
“The impact of long COVID is causing disproportionate morbidity and disability in younger adults in their prime who provide much of the workforce, productivity and innovation in our society,” Dr. Koralnik said. “This may have a negative impact on the economy and cause additional burden on the health care system. This study highlights the importance that people of all ages suffering from Long COVID should be provided with the necessary treatment and rehabilitation services to alleviate their symptoms and improve their quality of life.”
To date, the Neuro COVID-19 Clinic has treated more than 2800 long-haulers from 44 states. For more information, visit nm.org and to schedule an appointment, please call 312.695.7950.
Studly link: onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/ana.27128
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